


Son of the Sage

by jarynw02



Category: Naruto
Genre: BAMF Haruno Sakura, BAMF Uchiha Sasuke, BAMF Uzumaki Naruto, Dimension Travel, F/M, General Bonding, General Sacrilege, Lots of confused mf's, M/M, Protective Namikaze Minato, Time Travel, all of this was me rambling with no actual plot in mind so forgive the holes, also some fun chibi times, drinking contests, emotional reunions, future naruto is chibi naruto's sweet naru-niisan, general badassery, kakashi and future!sakura, maybe a little OP but who cares that's dope af, my first naruto work, naruto and sasuke making their dead fathers flustered lmfao, naruto and sasuke retain their power from the sage of sixth paths, naruto is his own big brother and he loves it, overly mature young itachi, random one night stands, shisui and genma are eternal comedic relief, sort of turning naruto into a jesus figure, way more angst than i meant to add, whoops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:53:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27459043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarynw02/pseuds/jarynw02
Summary: With a hoarse voice he says, “If you don’t want to bring me back to Konoha that’s fine. I can still accomplish my goals on my own.”“And what are those goals?” his father says quietly, the sound like a drop of balm of the wildfire of his raging heart.Naruto sweeps a glance over them all before settling his eyes on his father’s.“To make sure all of you stay alive.”ORMore of my Time Travel Trash but this time Naruto is a messiah figure, OP, and gives no fucks. Think: Naruto is the Jesus of shinobi-kind.... who brings along his slightly too violent best girl & occasionally murderous boyfriend.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Hatake Kakashi, Uchiha Itachi & Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 165
Kudos: 696
Collections: Extraordinary Naruto FanFics





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! More shit-posting for me. First one without a female lead, look at me! Let's call it growth.
> 
> Speaking of, when I first wrote this I called it my "present tense project" because it was my first time seriously writing in present tense. Now it's my favorite tense and most, if not all my writings are in present tense. 
> 
> Anyway! I have like 50k of this written out already, so I'll just update it whenever you guys want it! 
> 
> Thanks for stopping by to read!

_ Now. It has to be now. _

The sky is falling. It flutters by in sweeping cuts, a roaring maelstrom of feathers breaking against his skin, and yet without the visceral, gnawing pain that sinks in and steals bleating seconds of time like crumbs of gold-- so precious to the battle-worn and the hungry. Numbness crawls through his blood with languid claws that kindle something reminiscent and nagging somewhere far, far away-- lost in one of the many corners of his mind that all drop with him like stars burning down with the rest of the shattered sky. 

It’s nice. The freedom of everything having finally been swept away, all the pressure mounted thick along every fiber and sinew of his muscles, every robbed chance at rest now whispering away with the promise of sleep so sound and sweet that it will kiss over his broken skin and linger forever. He would fall this way until the end, let the wind he’d only known as a weapon fly him into his hard-fought liberty. He could just… let go. 

But there are phantom hands on his face, cracking eyes pouring out a holy sort of trust despite the reserves for such things having long run dry, every drop already given away to last this long. 

He doesn’t deserve this freedom. 

Not yet. 

The first clang of metal crashes through the foggy silence, tacked on with hard breaths and the growls of war that have become more of a home in the last two years than all the years before. Chakra sings through him, soft smoke rising from his wounds in a chorus of hissing as they mend and bind themselves, reconstructing what could have been irreparable to so many others he’d once known. Wealthy in only this power, the magnitude of his chakra system drips back to life from a single ripple ringing out in shallow waters building into the steady stream that grows and grows in that familiar way that speaks his name, reminding him of who he is and what he stands for until there is a hurricane inside him, curated and at attention before he can fill his limitlessly patched up lungs. 

A breath and his senses return tenfold, the slow bleeding of his and his bestial counterpart within him coming second nature after spending a lifetime together in the span of two years of gore and betrayal at every turn. The blood on his hands washes away as he reenters his mind, as the earth returns beneath him groaning as he whistles down to meet it and still he knows when this moment is done his palms will be spattered red once again. 

This part was never in the plan. They’d hoped for an expansive, ignored strip of Fire Country to greet him when the time finally came to dispatch him to their last resort, the last measure of their resolve pressed firmly onto his shoulders in a mantle he’d carry for his fallen for the rest of his days. 

Not this. 

Not more war. 

A song of torn flesh and collapsing bodies, guttural declarations of rage and fear and malice too deep to ever be formed into words plays out around him and he finally lets himself search within. The claws of numbness meet him head-on, the same claws that traced seals and laid out history and strategy along the ground in another world shared only between the two of them. Even before he connects in that shared headspace, he stretches his senses in a wave, laying out a grid within his newest batch of enemies. 

When he opens his eyes, there are clouds above him, slow and lazy drifting across the gentlest blue. 

His feet touch down in the same moment he throws a handful of kunai, effectively clearing out his immediate area as a cushion of chakra catches him, easing him onto the battlefield where he straightens into less than a stance. 

_ This is not our fight, Naruto.  _

But a flicker of his bright, Namikaze eyes across the warzone and he would, unfortunately, have to inform Kurama that it is exactly his fight. Shinobi in all states are colliding across the summer field and one small detail keeps him from skipping out into the nearby trees not yet burned away by Raton or Kaiton. A glint of metal in the sun, the seal of the Hidden Leaf village stark across the banners tied above the eyes of so many around him, unable to spare a glance to the newcomer who fell straight out of the sky. 

Screeching is the first sound to truly draw his attention, even when he side-steps away from a rogue katana and pitches it with its user away in a chakra infused parry of his arm. Both sides close in on him, both sides lacking the privilege of time to decide his allegiance and he follows his inner senses, listening to the flow of energy as he evades in too-quick slips of his feet and one twisting bound over the head of a Konoha nin. Eyes glued to the sharp crackle of a Raiton jutsu, he lowers his haunches realizing the tide of electricity is not the sound of a thousand birds— this technique is not that of his sensei’s. 

But then the fan of his senses is complete, soft pings of familiar chakra rising up in the shinobi at his back. He throws a kunai, aiming it between two more ninjas he slips away from, leaving them to slam into one another as his blade sinks into the leg of a Kumo shinobi on their other side. The shout the man lets escape him is lost in the calamity as Naruto turns, dancing through katas as he evades his way through the melee. 

At least until he finally feels a  _ too  _ familiar chakra. 

There’s no need to check over his shoulder to confirm, this was a chakra signature he could find in his sleep, and it only steels the resolve sparked by the sound of Raiton, the sight of Konoha hitae-ate. 

So for the first time, he focuses entirely on the Kumo forces, even as he pivots away from a pair of flying shuriken, catching them as they pass and returning them to where they came from. There are less bodies in the clearing than he originally expected, less of a full assault and more of an organized skirmish. This battle must be young. The frontlines still stand firm on both sides, the reserves of ninjutsu specialists lingering behind to wait for their opening to launch the heavy artillery. 

Kurama rumbles in his chest.

A kunai in hand, its compact handle familiar in his grip with wrap fraying at the edges and stained with blood, he forges through the tight bodies at war, cutting away the tension of held lines with strikes to incapacitate. Kumo nin fall in his wake and he is a streak of tattered black clothes and blond hair that dips and spins and leaps. The Leaf presence falls back a step and he can feel their hesitancy— the faint fear and relief as he takes control of the frontline. The wounded fall in packs of tens, Naruto rising to a calm stand in their middle with his kunai still in hand. 

Eyes of Kumo watch him with a hunger he knows well. Their hands raise, signs flying and Naruto sweeps his senses over his back, counting his ignorant allies before seeking out any that might be ahead with the enemy. He’ll protect them— at all costs. 

Precious people.

A scuffle of feet to his flank as he judges the impending jutsus gathering to face him. Odds of casualties and injured run though his mind as he thumbs through ideas for a counter, but then—

“Hokage-sama!”

Tension surges through his limbs, stopping his mind for long enough to glance at the unknown Leaf shinobi who looks up at him with bright reverence and clear concern. 

Lightning shoots over the Kumo wounded in misshapen rods and beasts of energy. There’s no time to linger on the shock pounding through his heart harder than any fight has been able to in so long. He drops his hands to the earth, calling upon chakra that molds and melts into what he wants until the ground stirs and moves and  _ spins  _ beneath his touch. Two flat orbs of rock rise with him to his feet and he launches the modified Rasengan into the oncoming attack. 

The concententration needed for the pin sized bijuu-dama is less than a breath, the craters his power and the power of his enemy had left behind in his own world still a vivid image in his mind as he forms the ball at his finger. With a careful flick, it fires deep into the Kumo forces and he darts toward their fray, snatching up one Leaf shinobi and then another before retreating back. The impact fractures the chaos with a bellowing dent, wind roaring out as Kumo are sent flying. 

_ Incoming.  _

The tentacle is a surprise, to say the least, but the lines between Kurama’s chakra and Naruto’s own have blurred away and he kicks off the ground to meet the lash of bijuu strength before it can touch down on Konoha’s side. Catching it with chakra-infused arms, he tugs with a dry smirk and speaks low, “Gyuuki, you bastard. What’s all this raucous for?”

The pause is enough for him to throw himself atop the faded lilac tentacle, eyes boring down the path to its owner as a new voice fills his head. 

_ Sage?  _ Gyuuki asks slowly, drawing in the extension of his manifested form to reel Naruto in toward the waiting Jinchuriki. Killer Bee is there, his brother nowhere to be seen but there is serious doubt as to whether this timeline would be changed enough to separate them for long. 

“Not exactly,” Naruto says back to the eight-tails, watching for the flickers of insight flashing through Bee’s eyes as he nears. The fight around them has more or less paused, morphing into an audience for the boy who fell from the sky facing off against the only Jinchuriki known to have control over his bijuu— at least, if things around here aren’t as different as his own timeline. 

Gyuuki retreats from his mind as his arm drops Naruto onto soft feet before his host. Kumo nin surround him, but wait for a sign from their superior as Bee scans him from top to bottom from beneath stark, tinted glasses. Bee lifts his chin, the muscles in his crossed arms ebbing. “Gyuuki tells me you’re the Son of the Sage.”

A biting laugh cuts from Naruto’s lips. “Something like that.”

The shinobi take a step back, wisely, and Bee throws out a hand to signal them for more. Obeying, they all fall away and give the two some room. 

There’s a pause and then, “I won’t fight Gyuuki’s family.”

“I’d rather pass myself,” Naruto agrees, listening to his senses as chakra signatures move and adjust in the broad expanse of field behind them. The Leaf nin are unsettled, wary of this ceasefire caused by a stranger and Naruto can’t blame them, however he hopes their leader has enough sense to stay on standby. He raises blue eyes to Bee’s. “Why are the humans fighting?”

A twitch of Bee’s brow and Naruto knows he received his message well enough. 

“The Leaf thinks the Kumo stole the Hokage’s son.” His terse words gravel between them, etching together the first piece of Naruto’s new world. “We expect it was a setup for the sake of this war.”

Naruto nods stiffly. “But you know A isn’t one to back down from a fight.”

Bee eyes him warily. “Yes, well, here we are.”

“The Kyuubi?”  _ Naruto _ . 

If the Naruto of this time is dead…

“Alive,” Bee assures with a steady voice. “As far as Gyuuki can tell, he’s still with his host.”

He hums in answer, a shield of silence to protect the truth of how relieved he feels knowing that this Naruto is still alive, though technically he can’t be sure Naruto is even a Jinchuriki in this time. 

A flash of chakra and shinobi are staggering back, fleeing away as two figures join them. One barrels through, a sizzling aura of lightning popping off across his skin as he rushes in inhuman speeds, but Naruto does not flinch. Tentacles burst from Bee’s back, slamming across the chest of his brother and sending him backpedaling from the small huddle. 

The chakra just beyond Naruto’s shoulder is too familiar, too much to think about. Instead he waits for the Kumo to gather themselves by diving inward. 

_ Kurama _ , he says into his mindscape. 

The fox opens an eye, unbothered to raise his muzzle from his crossed paws.  _ My counterpart lives _ , he tells him before Naruto can even ask.  _ He hasn’t been released from his seal. _

_ Can you tell if this Naruto is his Jinchuriki?  _ Water drips in the endless background of omnipotent blackness as he takes a step toward the twenty story fox curled up into a contented ball of tails. There’s a long pause between them before the first flicker of movement in the real world divides his attention. 

Finally, Kurama says,  _ Yes. He is.  _

_ Good _ , he answers hastily, prepared to end the quick conference.  _ Can you keep an eye on them? _

_ Yeah, yeah. Don’t get your panties in a twist. _

A dark smirk touches the corners of his lips as he tunes back into the battlefield. A is on his feet, glaring daggers into his brother as he holds him back from Naruto and the Leaf shinobi at his flank. 

“This fight is over,” Bee says firmly, his palm splayed open to his brother as if the movement controlled the tentacle pressed to his chest still crackling with chakra. With the other, Bee gestures to Naruto and the weight of eyes fall on his shoulders. “They have the Son of the Sage on their side. Gyuuki will not fight him and neither will I.”

Silence crests through them all, a stillness that threatens with what’s to come. 

“Son of the— What’s the meaning of this?” A whips his fury to Naruto, a snarl curled at his lips as if foam would surely billow and flow from his mouth. 

With a breath, Naruto settles in for some politics. 

Joy. 

“The Hachibi tells me that Kumo did not take the Hokage’s son,” he says, ignoring the startled faces and hands grasping for their weapons. “I believe him.”

A flinch from behind makes him falter for a breath, but he steels his gaze on Bee whose eyes brighten around the sides as if Gyuuki were looking through them, pleased a version of his master has faith in him. Naruto breaks away and looks to the Raikage. “Your forces may return home.”

“Wha—” A splutters, steam nearly rising from his ears. “How  _ dare  _ you?!”

Bee curls his tentacle around his brother, strong enough to hold him back but gently enough that Naruto can see the fondness between them. “Brother, a fight against the Sage is something mortals cannot win. Let’s go.”

A kunai twirls beside him, a flash of yellow hair and Naruto drops a steadying hand to the shinobi’s shoulder, effectively stopping a last ditch effort. The white cape beside him billows, sending Naruto back to the memory of uncovering the memento in Sarutobi’s things back in his own time. Ocean eyes turn on his like a mirror, the same bone shattering pain and deep seeded will to  _ act  _ haunted behind them. 

Naruto shakes his head once, clipped. “They do not have your son.”

Minato’s mouth releases a whisper of tension, a flood pouring in behind his stare that’s quickly blinked away as he rights himself under the pressure of Naruto’s hand. His eyes linger and Naruto knows what the man sees, a reflection of sorts, and a bone deep connection that will be entirely unexplainable to citizens of Konoha. Though judging by his robe, they will have to assimilate one way or the other if Minato decides to believe. Naruto gives his shoulder a faint squeeze with calloused fingers, all the comfort he can manage after the weathering on his heart that the last two years have wrought upon him. 

Barely, he smiles. “Don’t worry. We’ll find him.”

The four unit squad is quick on the Hokage’s heels, spread in a formation that comes naturally after all the missions that brought the best of Konoha’s shinobi from the shadows of Anbu and into active duty. The Uchihas run as flanks, Asuma at their center with a blade already looped through the fingers of one hand and dripping with Kumo blood. Kakashi leads them forward as point, orders left behind with Genma and Shisui to hold the rest of the line back until the Yondaime says otherwise. The flurry of furious adrenaline coils anticipation in his chest as they move, sights latched onto the white robe with red stitching that marks their leader. 

Ahead, the group is ready for a fight between Kage and yet no one seems willing to make the first move. In fact, the more his squad closes in on the opposite side of the clearing, the more tension Kakashi can see bearing down on the four men surrounded by Kumo nin, all eyes cast toward the newcomer who fell from the sky. 

Being a shinobi since he was six years old, Kakashi has seen stranger things. 

He slows with the rest of his team following the silent orders to do the same. The stranger beside the Yondaime Hokage not only performed well enough taijutsu to push back the entirety of Kumo’s close range fighters, but also managed to dispel the mid and long range attackers with a single ninjutsu Kakashi has never seen before. The fact that it was smaller than he could  _ actually  _ see from his distance away while still managing to catch him in the shockwaves after impact was definitely another factor and it sent pricks of a chill up the back of his neck when the man in front of them dropped a hand on Minato-sensei’s shoulder with such ease. 

The Yondaime stills and their faces turn to one another in tandem. 

The list of red flags steadily grows into a threat large enough to give him a migraine and a part of Kakashi  _ really  _ wishes he could rewind himself to a few weeks ago when he could nap in a tree for most of the day between  _ Icha Icha  _ binges. 

Sigh, the good times. 

Wild, blond hair on both men with faces that could easily be replaced with the other’s comes into full view. Their eyes are so blue that it’s completely unignorable, even from the profile, and, most disturbingly, the newcomer wears a battered hitae-ate across his forehead with the distinct swirl of a familiar leaf. But there is no spark of recognition in Minato-sensei’s eyes and if the Hokage is clueless to the identity of arguably the strongest shinobi currently on the scene, then they could all be truly in trouble despite his supposed allegiance in the form of a headband. 

Kakashi needs a drink and he would bet his next payday that Asuma is blearily thinking the same behind him. 

An empty half-smile drops from the stranger at their arrival and his attention turns back to the Kumo where Kakashi embarrassingly realizes not only is the Raikage among them, but his brother has seemed to have unleashed an octopus tentacle on the lord. This battle is clearly going to be one for the history books. 

Killer Bee is a war-turning force known well across the Elemental Nations for his prowess after learning to tame the bijuu locked away inside of him. He is also, apparently, playful as he taps the tip of a tentacle on his brother’s crudely disgruntled face and turns to the Yondaime, crossing his arms over his chest. Then he  _ smiles _ . “And we will help.”

“Like _ hell _ we will!” the Raikage snarls, even as the tentacle continues its love pats that seem to be growing in forcefulness. “They were going to start a  _ war _ .”

Bee waves his brother off like a pesky fly. “If the roles were reversed you would have acted no differently.” The Kumo nin fall back a step and Kakashi sacrifices a glance to verify his teams readiness should this turn sour. “Besides,” Bee continues, opening his palms to Minato-sensei and the stranger, “I never said Kumogakure would help. If the Son of the Sage needs assistance, then Gyuuki and I will make ourselves available.”

_ The Son of the Sage? _

Kakashi has never once heard of such a person, though the term would make the stranger less of a person and more of a deity. The Sage is the one who mythologically brought shinobi life into existence, the being every ninja prays to for guidance and curses when they’ve been broken. He’s an ideal, a theory, not a tangible person. 

But the stranger doesn’t refute his claim, adding one more red flag to the exponentially too long list that Kakashi will never be able to neatly stuff down deep somewhere he doesn’t have to constantly think about. 

And then, as if trying to personally drive him insane, the stranger raises the hand from Minato-sensei’s shoulder to scratch at the back of his neck and suddenly the man seems so young-- a boy still if it weren’t for the ache in his eyes as he tries for a dry smile. “Thank you, Gyuuki. You too, Bee,” the boy says before pulling up a hand and curling it into a fist to hold out to the Jinchuriki. 

Killer Bee’s brows shoot up over his glasses for a moment before settling back down as his lips curve up in a wry grin. He meets the fist with his own as the stranger adds, “We’ll be in touch.”

The Raikage wriggles with glowing chakra inside his tentacle prison, cursing under his breath as Bee turns toward him. “Alright, brother, tell everyone they can go home to their families now.” With a last glance over his shoulder, Bee tells Minato-sensei, “I’ll have him calmed down before we step back in the boundaries of the Hidden Cloud. You won’t have any trouble from us.”

The Yondaime is still frozen beside the Sage-stranger, but manages a brief nod in answer before Bee turns and lets his brother berate him all while the rest of the Kumo nin fall into order, retreating as if such squabbles are less than new to them. Kakashi waits, as does the rest of his team and the company of Konoha shinobi on the other side of the clearing, until the Hokage straightens and faces their, well, savior. 

The similarities are beyond uncanny, they’re downright frightening in a way that makes it undoubtable the two are of some relation and Kakashi is grateful he left Shisui behind to save them all from the remarks the thirteen year old would throw out into the tension with no regard for his own personal safety. Their eyes, their hair, their skin, their posture-- all just a tic below identical. 

Then the stranger bows fully at the waist in a sweeping gesture that catches Kakashi off guard, no matter the hitae-ate on the unknown shinobi’s head. “Hokage-sama,” he says lowly with undiluted reverence. 

There’s a pause and then Minato-sensei taps the teenager on the shoulder. “Easy.” The boy lifts his chin before straightening to his full height, just a handful of centimeters smaller than the Hokage. “You helped us,” Minato-sensei says, dropping his hand back to his side. “Thank you.”

The boy closes his eyes and inclines his head. “I would never abandon the Hidden Leaf.”

It’s said with a sincerity that bleeds onto the boy’s face, his features firm and pressed with a tension Kakashi has seen many times before on shinobi returned from particularly scarring missions. 

“I see that,” the Yondaime says, the tips of his fingers dancing for a moment as if he’s contemplating reaching out, or, perhaps, making a fist to crack across the stranger’s face but it’s possible that’s more of what Kakashi wants to happen, rather than Minato-sensei’s nature. “And yet I’ve never seen you before,” the Hokage continues, “and I don’t know your name.”

Sharp blue eyes pop open at that, the quiet surge of chakra Kakashi feels from him quickly snuffing itself out. “That’s true.”

Itachi takes a step forward on Kakashi’s left with a short, casual gait, but Kakashi and the rest of their party know that coming from the kid it’s anything but. Not one of them missed the boy ignoring Minato-sensei’s grab for his name. 

“Killer Bee called you the Son of the Sage.” The Yondaime yields no space, despite the area being vacant with even Kakashi’s team still strides away. They stand together within arms reach, matching sets of eyes brighter than the sky and deeper than the ocean stare at each other. “Any idea what that’s about?”

The boy looks away to the trees, not once having acknowledged Kakashi’s group as a presence, let alone a threat. The lines around his eyes wither and still, a smooth, thoughtful expression blanketing his features even as an ache seems to slip through the way he watches the wind catch the leaves in the distance. 

“Yes,” he says, turning back to Minato-sensei. “I met the Sage once and he gave me power.” Kakashi holds his breath, the rest of his team seemingly also choking on their doubts as they freeze at the words. It’s-- impossible. “I have a link to all the bijuu and know them as friends.”

Minato-sensei tilts his head, face unreadable. “And you know that story will be unbelievable to most?”

A dark chuckle escapes the boy. “I do.”

Quiet falls around them. If the boy is telling the truth then he is blessed by a god, untouchable to any single shinobi in the Elemental Nations and beyond. Not to mention it leaves all of them here entirely at his mercy. If things go awry, they need to have a way for Minato-sensei to escape and knowing his affinity for optimism in the darkest of moments, they might need a plan to forcibly drag him away from getting mixed in the fight. Kakashi flashes a quick sign with his fingers at his side, knowing they won’t be missed by his squad but also hoping Shisui has the sense to be using the Sharingan to watch them from his position behind so he and Genma are also in on the plan. 

But the boy in question turns to face him for the first time, a single brow raised in mild offense and, almost, humor. “Maa, maa, I’m not going to hurt him,” he says, dropping the arm still curved around his back. “No need for a rescue.”

His entire squad and the Yondaime all stand a little straighter at that. Asuma takes a step up to Kakashi’s side and Kakashi doesn’t need to hear him speak to know what he’s thinking-- what they’re all thinking. 

“Who are you?” Kakashi finally says with a slight jut of his chin, no longer willing to wait for his sensei’s attempt at finesse. He keeps his eyes lidded, lazy, and his mouth set in a firm, expressionless line even if the boy won’t be able to see it anyway through his mask. They watch each other, unblinking for the longest moment and Kakashi considers how powerful the boy could really be, standing so at ease in a field of shinobi fresh from battle, so close to the Kage of a land that doesn’t know his name. 

The boy sighs. “You don’t want to know.”

A scoff comes from Kakashi’s right and he glances over at Obito with a reproachful look. The Uchiha raises two meek hands as his waist in an apology and when Kakashi turns back the boy is staring at Obito with hard eyes. 

“Uchiha,” he calls out, practically spitting across the grass at Kakashi’s squadmate despite the fact that Obito hasn’t so much as flinched since they arrived and is almost definitely older than the boy by a handful of years. “Are you loyal to the Leaf?”

“Shouldn’t we be asking you that question?” Asuma moves to Kakashi’s side fully, his barrel chest puffed up in a quiet anger that Kakashi knows better than he wished he did. 

The boy frowns, unconvinced. His hands ball into fists at his sides, pieces of his netted ninja top torn from his sleeve and whispering against the tightly stretched knuckles as he watches Obito with genuine skepticism. “I’ll answer your question if he answers mine.”

Asuma reaches out to Obito in an attempt to stave off his answer, but Obito visibly bristles and takes a step toward the unknown nin. “Of course I am. The village is my home-- my family.”

The boy absorbs this with a seriousness that Kakashi could laugh. Where does a missing nin carrying around a Leaf hitae-ate grow the balls to ask a Konoha shinobi such a question? But he settles, the fists at his sides not quite falling away but relaxing enough to be slightly less threatening-- though the well of neverending chakra Kakashi can feel clear as day really usurps the need to be wary of his punches. 

“And you?” Minato-sensei says and the boy’s eyes snap right to him with an unveiled urgency. “You wear our symbol as if you are one of us and though that could be considered treasonous, if you are truly the Son of the Sage then there’s little I could do to stop you, am I right?” He doesn’t wait for the boy to answer, but shifts on his feet as they face each other. “So, then, where are your loyalties?”

A wistfulness shines into the boy’s eyes, completely unhindered as he scans the face of the Yondaime Hokage like a man lost in the desert finally finding a drop of water beneath the burning sun. Before he utters a single word, Kakashi already suspects his answer and knows that Minato-sensei likely does too. 

“I will always stand with the Hidden Leaf village.”

The choking of emotion in his voice is not something Kakashi had expected, however, and he suddenly feels like there’s something he’s missing. 

“Good,” Minato-sensei says, his eyes glued to the boys face in a too-strong stare and Kakashi tries to follow his line of sight, tries to understand what the Hokage sees in that face so clearly similar to his own. The next question falls from the Yondaime’s tongue quieter than the one before, “And your name?”

Pressure builds between the two, not in force and not in chakra and Kakashi wants to check in with his squad, to report on each of their observations, but he doesn’t dare look away as the tension pulls them all into the brief space between the stranger and the Hokage. 

Suddenly the boy looks tired.

Young. 

Too young for all the weariness that drops with his shoulders, eyes trained on Minato-sensei and slowly glassing over only for the shinobi to desperately blink the emotion away. He clears his throat as subtly as possible, though Kakashi knows all of them heard it. He takes a slow, sad breath and answers the Hokage.

“My name is Naruto Uzumaki.”

It’s then Kakashi realizes what his sensei has been staring at all this time. 

Across the boy’s cheeks, stained with dirt and blood, are three marks like whiskers on either side. 

  
  


“Bullshit.”

The rage that splits through him at the sound of that voice is instant and white hot, tearing open wounds inside him that have been sealed and resealed enough times to leave enough tender scar tissue that Naruto doubts he’ll ever truly overcome it. Still, looking into the eyes of his father makes it easier to believe that maybe things are different here-- wherever here is. He clenches his teeth, refusing himself the bitter wasteful satisfaction of snapping at the Uchiha. 

_ We could always kill him just in case _ , Kurama offers as a solution, only half-joking judging from his tone. 

Naruto doesn’t answer him. 

Because his father is watching him with a pain in his eye that hits too close to home. It’s a look Naruto has seen in the mirror since he was a little boy and though he eventually rose to lead what was left of the crumbling society of leftover shinobi in the wake of utter destruction, there will always be a part of him that remembers coming from that tower of loneliness, ready to topple over at a moment’s notice, but always poised for the best view of others who have so much when you have so little.

The war was wreathed with loss at every turn, the deaths of his friends and allies like mist he was forced to wade through with blind, weary steps so desperately seeking the peace that could save them all. In the end, it wasn’t enough. 

“Explain,” Kakashi-sensei says in that lackadaisical tone Naruto quickly recognizes as interest poorly disguised with apathetic bravado. He looks so much the same, though young— less broken. His two grey eyes meet him with no slanted hitae-ate to hide the Sharingan still in a set with Obito to his right, which means this world has Kakashi of the Leaf, but no Copy Nin. 

Naruto looks back to his father on instinct, like a gravitational pull that’s attached him to the Hokage’s will even more than he’d be if he came to a world with Tsunade or Sarutobi in charge. Something curls inside him, warmer than if he had touched the sun when Minato gives him a brief nod. 

“I was sent here,” Naruto says, releasing coils of tension Obito’s presence naturally builds in him. He drops his shoulders and opens his stance to the five shinobi waiting for his answer and their faces sting in his memories. “My world was ending,” he tells them as if it will make any sense, “so I was sent back to try and help save a different one.”

Of the faces looking back at him, Asuma would typically be the one Naruto would think to be the most willing to understand his situation and give it a chance, but seeing as how he’s the one with a weapon in his hand and undiluted killing instinct in his eyes, he throws away that idea. Between Kakashi-sensei, Itachi, and  _ Obito _ , his odds at being taken back to Konoha in less than handcuffs and covered with chakra-nulling seals is slim to none. 

“I believe him,” a quiet voice breaks the silence lingering from Naruto’s claims and his face turns to Itachi in the fog of ghosts rushing through his skin as the blood drains from his face. His Sharingan spins as he watches Naruto and not even Kurama’s low growls can break the sharp pain of seeing him again. 

Sasuke. 

He shakes himself out of the memory, refusing to slide down that well of despair one more time, especially not around so many of his armed friends who no longer see him as even a comrade. After a few soft blinks, he lifts his gaze to the Uchiha again and whispers, “Itachi.”

Kakashi and the rest of his squad seem to bristle at the name falling from Naruto’s mouth. They’re going to need proof, of course, but Naruto hadn’t planned to be sent back so soon. He hadn’t been in this world long enough to even consider what he would tell everyone if not simply the truth. 

_ Idiot, brat.  _

_ Not a good time,  _ he answers Kurama. 

“Sent here?” His father’s voice has him spinning back to look at the face he’d last seen with black eyes and cracks of decay across his skin, threatening to take him away like every second spent with him was merely a dream. 

He forces a nod. “From another time,” he says carefully, “or dimension maybe… There are a lot of differences so far, so I can’t be sure.”

“So you know us then?” Asuma steps forward again the same way he’s been slowly creeping up from the anchor position in the four man group who joined them earlier. His shoulder brushes Kakashi’s and it seems to remind him to stay back. After Naruto nods in answer he adds, “And? What of us? What proof do you have?”

Naruto looks back to his father again, silently cursing himself for gaining the reaction as a tell. He didn’t have the privilege of depending on his father where he came from and he won’t start having such a luxury now. He dips his chin and shakes his head solemnly. “There are too many differences already. The likelihood of your counterparts I know being the same as you is slim.”

“Humor us, then.” There’s a crinkle in Kakashi’s eyes when he smiles that sets Naruto a bit on edge-- seeing two instead of one.

_ Asshole. I should make an appearance and then they won’t even think about trying to interrogate you. _

Naruto sighs.  _ Still not the time, Kurama.  _

“You’re all mostly dead,” he tells them, very intentionally looking away from his father and off toward the company of shinobi waiting for their leaders to return. “All except Obito, and maybe Kakashi-sensei. We got separated a few months ago, so there’s no telling. But Obito’s a part of the group who murdered the rest of you and all the shinobi in the Elemental Nations. When I left there were less than two dozen of us split into squads and he was still hunting us.”

He waits for the shouting to begin, for the inevitable name calling and the attacks, but instead he’s left with four sets of eyes looking to their Hokage as if he were a grounding force for them too. They won’t speak or move again unless their Hokage orders it, which says enough to Naruto about what their intentions would be if they did. 

So he barrels onward. 

“But when you were alive, Asuma was the captain of team ten: the InoShikaCho of my generation. He played shogi with Shikamaru and smoked cigarettes the same way Sarutobi-jiji smoked his pipe,” he glances up at the man gripping his personalized chakram with white-knuckled force. “Shikamaru worshipped the ground you walked on and when you died he kept your lighter with him on every mission, eventually taking up your smoking habit too. He was… one of my best friends.”

Without pausing, because he can’t pause or the tide of emotions will catch up to him, he turns to the Uchiha-- the only one that already says he believes him. “You killed your entire clan to protect the Leaf from an uprising before fleeing as a missing nin and eventually aiding Obito in his plans. In the end, you broke off from them and died as a shinobi of the Hidden Leaf once more.”

A hand falls on his shoulder and he jerks it off with a shrug, taking a step from his father and nailing his eyes on silver hair. Slowly, he drops his gaze to meet waiting eyes. 

“Kakashi-sensei,” he says, choking back something scraping and clawing at his throat. “You were my captain. You taught me how to be a shinobi.” Something heavy and warm and empty cracks at his chest and he desperately shoves it back down, managing to keep any tears from his eyes. “‘In the shinobi world, those who don’t follow the rules are scum. But, those who abandon their comrades are even worse than scum.’” He huffs a laugh that sounds a bit too much like a sob. “You were just as hard on team seven as you are on yourself. You… you did well.”

Their silence cuts through him sharper than any kunai. 

This time, when Minato lays a gentle hand on his shoulder he doesn’t fight him, only turns to face his father who has a heartbeat, who has blood pumping through him, whose face isn’t marred with a regeneration jutsu, who is more than a chakra impression left behind for a last ditch effort. 

“Dad,” he says softly and surprisingly no one argues. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen you alive.”

There’s a pause as they stare at each other before he can’t take it anymore. With a gasp for air like he’s physically drowning, he snaps his face away and pulls up an arm to swipe across his face, digging in to stow away all the emotion that this resurfacing has brought along. It wasn’t even an hour ago when he was with--

But he stops that train of thought before it can wreck him any further. This seal was meant for him because he’s the one with Kurama. He’s the only one that could have made it. It’s just another mission and none of his memories can stall him in that effort. The people here are alive and though  _ his  _ people are not, these need to stay that way. After a deep breath that locks away the crisp biting pain he’s come to know so well, he turns back to them. 

With a hoarse voice he says, “If you don’t want to bring me back to Konoha that’s fine. I can still accomplish my goals on my own.”

“And what are those goals?” his father says quietly, the sound like a drop of balm of the wildfire of his raging heart. 

Naruto sweeps a glance over them all before settling his eyes on his father’s. 

“To make sure all of you stay alive.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember this was my first attempt with present tense... there's some run-on sentences and whatnot but I'm not gonna go through and edit it all after the months of not working on this whoops sorry.
> 
> Also, THANK YOU for the comments!!!! I'm sorry for tagging future (not yet published) events. I didn't mean to be a tease hahaha so sorry. The pairings are both coming. KakaSaku is first (Kakashi x future!Sakura) and then the NaruSasu (*heart clench*) is precious but further away. 
> 
> I'll post the chapters I have as quickly as you guys want them, but no more than one a day lol. Gotta attempt to bump myself up for visibility ya know?? 
> 
> Anyways, thank you for reading!

“I really thought there would be more fighting,” Genma says, gnawing on his senbon in a way that absolutely cannot be good what with all the poison it’s dipped in. His hands are in the pockets of his flak vest, feet itching back and forth across the scorched Fire Country grass and Shisui has to formally resolve himself to not knock him upside the head. 

The steady flow of chakra thrumming through his system to power his Sharingan is more of a comfort than a drain as he watches the team with Itachi and Obito stand with the man who dropped from the sky and the Yondaime. There really shouldn’t be anything to worry about as far as escapes go considering Obito and the Hokage are there, but something about the newcomer hasn’t set right with Shisui ever since his first sight of the shinobi’s taijutsu as it lanced through the Kumo nin. Everything about it was foreign, in both form and flow and though it seemed to shift between styles, there wasn’t one that Shisui recognized. However, this could have been excused by the fact that Shisui is not exactly known for his taijutsu, but then the stranger threw an orb of pure chakra as small as the Sharingan currently active in his eyes and virtually ended the battle between  _ armies _ . 

So, yeah, all in all, Shisui isn’t too fond of the guy so far. 

The Yondaime is laying a hand on the man’s shoulder when Genma tries to slip into the trees again. 

“Oi!” he snaps, whisper-yelling despite the fact that none of them on the scene should be able to hear him shout at this distance anyway. “If I can’t relax then neither can you!” 

Genma groans already half-crouched at the base of an outlining oak. “Fine. What are they talking about anyway?”

Shisui focuses himself back on the six across the clearing only to blink. 

And blink again.

“Uh,” he starts and Genma pulls back up to his side raising a brow. “I think the Hokage just hugged the new guy.”

Genma splutters, nearly spitting out his senbon and Shisui flinches away swatting his hands at the incognito weapon. Genma catches it between two fingers before it can tumble to the ground, but doesn’t pop it back between his teeth just yet-- a bad sign. “Excuse me, what?”

“I wish I could tell you I was creative enough to be joking, but who in their right mind would even consider such a thing?”

Genma and Shisui exchange a weighted glance and when they look back the six shinobi are all coming together. Shisui swallows a small gulp of stress and, without glancing back at Genma, says, “They’re coming back.”

The Yondaime hands Kakashi something before stepping back with the stranger to watch as Kakashi, Itachi, and Asuma move to Obito’s side. The air around them swirls just before the same blur of space appears on Genma’s other side and then the four of them step through. Shisui is moving before Itachi has two feet on the ground, looping an arm over his cousin’s smaller shoulders.

“Itachi! I was so worried,” he fawns hysterically, hoping that maybe today is finally the day Itachi breaks. But no, Itachi simply sighs and drags dark eyes up to Shisui who promptly stows his Sharingan knowing that Itachi finds the threat to be resolved enough to go without. 

“You’re starting to make me think you have no confidence in me,” Itachi says, his voice a little dryer than usual. 

Shisui frowns, raising the back of a hand to Itachi’s cheeks even as he distractedly says, “Me? No, never.” Itachi doesn’t even swipe his hands away and now Shisui is getting  _ actually  _ concerned. He looks over to the somber faces of the rest of the returning squad. Obito is  _ pale _ . Before he can start the acquisition, Genma beats him to it. 

“You left the Hokage with him?” His senbon is twirling through his fingers in a nervous tick Shisui  _ really  _ wishes he didn’t know about because all of this is starting to get to him. 

“Orders,” Kakashi tells them, eyes trained across the clearing to the two blonds. 

Asuma and Obito haven’t so much as flinched since they stepped through the kamui and Itachi’s silence is heavier than usual and Shisui can’t stand it anymore. He looks to Genma for backup but Genma seems even more concerned than Shisui, his brows down and cross as he stares at Kakashi like he’s grown another head. 

“Okay,” Shisui cuts into the awkward silence. “What the fuck happened over there? Who is that guy?”

No one makes any point to move and Genma’s frown deepens. He pops his senbon in his mouth and steps up beside Kakashi joining him in watching the men on the other side of the field. Shisui looks down at his cousin. 

Itachi’s eyes are somewhere far away before he returns his gaze and says, “It’s Naruto.”

  
  


He looks exactly like him. 

Every angle of his face is identical, though older, and Minato is sure that if the boy ever had something worth laughing about ever again it would sound just like Kushina-- just like Naruto. But that’s just the thing: this  _ is  _ Naruto. Just not  _ his  _ Naruto. Even so, Kushina would put him on his ass for treating him like any less of a son, though he hardly looks like he’s jumping at the chance to play house with him back in Konoha. 

Minato has never really given thought to the possibilities of time travel or dimensions. Maybe here or there, in the midst of tweaking his seals or when he’s worked with Obito in the past and debated the techniques of his kamui, but it always seemed so outlandish that the idea of it being  _ real  _ and a usable tool had never occurred to him. But he heard this Naruto explain all of their presences in his world, more than that he  _ saw  _ the ache of loss across his face as he spoke. He shed tears for them, both here today and likely for them all many times before. 

That was enough to convince him. 

“Do you think they’ll really leave without you?”

Minato chuckles, pulling his vision back in from where it had zoned away from him on the boy’s face. A rogue part of him wants to trace the whiskers on his cheeks, the same way he does his own Naruto’s. He’s getting older now, finally becoming a child instead of a baby and such things will be long forgotten soon enough. Breaking away, he checks ahead in the clearing to see Kakashi leveling him with the same stare Minato’s seen for the last eighteen years or so. He sighs. “Hopefully.”

“I could never get them to leave,” Naruto says fondly, the traces of mourning still fresh in the air as the words leave him. 

A leader, then. A foreign sort of pride billows in his chest and he remembers the beginning of Naruto’s earlier admissions.  _ The Son of the Sage.  _ He said he’d met the Sage before, that the man who had given chakra to the world, who created shinobi from his own power had given Naruto that same power. If he was going to believe that this Naruto was his son from another time, he also needs to believe that this Naruto has that kind of astronomical power inside him. This Naruto in the Hidden Leaf would be even more auspicious than having a bijuu-- even more than a village having  _ all  _ the bijuu if the legends are to be true. 

Finally, Kakashi turns to Genma at his side and the company of Leaf shinobi start to fall back. Minato tries to watch them retreat into the trees, split off into smaller squadrons for the sake of speed moving through the forest, but his attention is utterly rapt in his new son. 

Naruto turns to watch him too. He searches his eyes for a moment before looking back to the path ahead. “I can help Naruto with Kurama,” he says suddenly, rolling his neck a bit as he steps forward. 

Minato frowns, following the boy with little rush. “Kurama?”

If that’s who has taken Naruto and  _ this  _ Naruto knows who they are then the two of them could--

“The Kyuubi,” Naruto cuts off his train of thought, resting a hand over his stomach with a gentle sort of smile-- the most genuine one Minato’s seen so far. 

But… the nine-tails?

Minato chooses his next words carefully. “Help him how?”

Naruto slides his eyes up to Minato’s as they walk and scans his face for something, apparently finding it when he says, “If I show you, you can’t freak out, okay?”

Minato furrows his brow, slowing when Naruto does and watching as he scans their perimeter for onlookers. When he’s decided it’s safe enough, the boy comes to a stop and turns to face him, holding up his hands in a sign Minato hasn’t seen outside of a scroll. There’s a wave of chakra, more than the already considerable amount easily sensible from this version of his son and then red flickers in their peripherals. Red that quickly takes shape into a creature from his nightmares. 

He crouches in an instant, a hand already reaching out to grab Naruto by the scruff of his shirt to transport them back to the kunai he handed off to Kakashi before they left when Naruto lightly knocks the hand to the side. 

“Kurama, say hi.”

The miniature version of the nine-tailed fox  _ rolls his eyes _ . “I’m not a show animal, brat.”

“You’d probably win first place though, eh?” Naruto quips, silver tongued and looking up at the fox as if they were longtime pals and Minato quickly realizes they probably are. 

“Of course I-- Wait, no, you can’t get me that easy,” the fox snarls, lowering its muzzle down to Naruto’s shoulder to glare at him more furtively. 

Naruto reaches up a hand and presses it firmly to the fox’s snout and this time when he smiles it’s broad and bright and  _ real _ , but when he turns his attention back to Minato, it wanes, even though a fraction remains. “This is Kurama. We’ve already confirmed that your Naruto has this world’s Kurama sealed in him as well. We can teach them to work together,” he looks up at the horse-sized fox beside him and cords his fingers in the fur beneath his palm, “as a team.”

Kurama huffs through his nose, blowing Minato’s hair in the process, and retreats away from the touch. “Yeah, yeah, brat. You’re okay and all, but this Kyuubi is going to be starting fresh from the dark place and will be consumed with hatred and malice.” Endless red eyes settle on Minato and he forces himself not to take a step back. Even if this Kyuubi is smaller, the chakra in him alone could level a village-- the memories are still too fresh. “How old is your Naruto?” the fox asks. 

This Naruto watches him for his answer. 

“Four,” he says. “Going on five.”

Kurama  _ snorts _ and turns back to Naruto, curling his nine tails above him in banners too reminiscent of blood. “That should probably make it easier, honestly. You were cuter then and much less obnoxious.”

“ _ I’m  _ obnoxious?” Naruto smarts, pointing an accusatory finger at the fox. “You’re the one always like, _ ‘I am an incarnation of rage blah blah’ _ when in reality you’re just a mother hen big brother, dattebayo!” 

Kurama growls low in his chest at that, but Minato barely hears it. The sound of that little verbal tic coming through in this Naruto the same way Kushina always said something so similar is a twisting comfort to an aching part of his heart and he can’t help the wistful smile that grows in its wake. He tips his head to the side and says, “I think he would like that.”

Naruto and Kurama snap their heads to him, as if they’d forgotten they weren’t alone in all their bickering. They both turn and straighten, Kurama lowering himself to sit across from Minato, tails flashing out behind him. 

“And you can speak to the other bijuu too?” Minato ventures glancing between them. 

Kurama narrows his eyes at Minato skeptically. “It’s more than that, husband of Kushina.” Minato freezes where he stands, the effect the fox was likely looking for, and lets it sink in that this creature is the same one that was inside his wife-- that if he’s been watching over Naruto all his life, he was also privy to Kushina’s life and therefore much of his own. The fox raises its snout with smug satisfaction. “Naruto is every bit the Sage that the original was, as the Sage made so. The bijuu answer to him. Their power is his power. Whether they are physically near to manifest at his side or not, their chakra is always within reach for him.”

Naruto raises a bashful arm to scratch his neck and shoos Kurama with his free hand, a light peppering of pink on his muddy cheeks. “Kurama, it’s not that big of a--”

“Not that big of a deal?!” the fox roars, rising up on four legs to glower down at the boy who looks surprisingly unflinching. “The power of the Sage is  _ everything _ and you fought--”

“Maa, maa, Kurama,” Naruto interrupts, casting a telling glance over at Minato. “I meant no disrespect to your father. Let’s just save the story time for later. We have plenty of travel ahead of us.”

Kurama tears his snout away from Naruto and pointedly looks across the clearing petulantly. “As if I’m going to  _ walk _ with you all that way. I’m going back inside.”

Naruto opens his mouth to speak, but Kurama is already gone in a pop of smoke and Naruto wilts. “Bastard,” he mumbles and then there’s a pause before he raises a fist and says, “Yes, I know you can hear me!” 

The laugh bubbles out of Minato before he can stop it, delirious and erratic even as he brings a hand to his temple as if to right his mind. Naruto turns to him with a raised brow before suddenly jumping and holding out his arms in a repentant gesture. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, I wasn’t even thinking about whether the attack happened here but I should have known it was possible since your me has Kurama sealed in him. I hope I didn’t--”

Minato quiets him with a gesture and straightens, a small smile lingering as the laughter fades away. “The Kyuubi did attack Konoha and that day… is nothing to laugh about,” he pauses and scans the open, concerned face of what his son will look like in a decade or so. “But seeing you and the creature we call a  _ demon  _ pestering each other like brothers is just… funny. It’s… nice. Nice to know that Naruto can have a companion like that to protect him and never leave him.”

This Naruto blinks slowly before returning his smile with something faintly the same and sets a hand to his stomach. “We protect each other, dattebayo!” 

“Good,” he answers and he means it. Looking to the horizon, he judges the sun and they have about half a day’s worth of sunlight left to get on the move. Judging from the state of war clearly expressed in the wear of this Naruto’s clothes and the dried slashes of dirt dotted with blood across his skin, it’s likely he won’t need to camp for rest so they could make it back before nightfall tomorrow. But, Minato is still a father and his or not, this is Naruto. “Let’s get moving. We’ll see how far we can make it before we set up for the night.”

Naruto raises a brow at him, lips twitching and slamming closed, but follows when Minato heads for the treeline. He waits for whatever it is the kid’s obviously dying to say and the similar expression on his four-year-old version of Naruto when he wants to ask something but is scared to makes one corner of a wry smile curl up his cheek. But they make their way into the cover of the forest before he ever says anything. They move quickly, rising up in the branches to fly in leaps toward home and it strikes Minato that the two of them could undoubtedly beat the rest of the Leaf company to Konoha if they were both using their full capabilities. 

It’s a while later when Naruto finally caves and says, “I’m going to have to pick a new name, huh?”

This time, Minato doesn’t try to stifle his laugh.

  
  


They had arrived in the cover of night and Itachi was far from surprised. This Naruto-sennin’s chakra had fallen like a beacon to his Sharingan from the sky, lancing through the battle in a piercing brilliance that Itachi has never seen before. The nearest comparison he might draw upon would be any of the Sannin, particularly Jiraiya-sama, as well as the Yondaime and his predecessor. That said, Itachi would never lump them all together as far as power levels go. 

Even now, as Shisui snores beside him in the heights of a branch after determinedly following him to keep company during Itachi’s watch, his eyes are glued to the Son of the Sage. Anything threatening to the sleeping Leaf shinobi would have a sense for chakra and considering the amount of raw energy ebbing and flowing in invisible waves around the teenager, they will keep their distance. 

It’s likely he knows it as well. 

He’s settled into the most centralized squadron and has found a small berth of trees to sit alone, his legs crossed beneath him and eyes closed as the natural chakra around him seems to answer his presence like a summons, though Naruto-sennin hasn’t let himself accumulate the chakra within. No intention to use it then. It’s been hours now that Itachi has watched him. Hours that the mysterious stranger disguised as the pride of their village has been meditating. 

Itachi wonders what he’s doing. 

There’s a shifting, a small breath of a sleepy snarl and Shisui is stirring, hands swiping innocently across his face as he blinks open tired eyes. Itachi doesn’t move from his place further down the thick branch, doesn’t withdraw the hand lazed over his updrawn knee and doesn’t look away from Naruto-sennin. Shisui curls his feet beneath him and grabs his ankles as he leans into a quiet stretch. “You’re still watching him? I thought you said you believed him?”

Itachi waits for the flicker of recognition in Naruto-sennin’s chakra showing he heard Shisui, but it doesn’t come. “I do.”

Shisui raises a brow, his hair falling across his face as he dips an ear to his shoulder and the playful expression makes him look almost as young as Itachi. “Then what’s with the obsession?” he asks, sliding across the bark beneath him to come way too close to Itachi’s side. “Did the Yondaime tell you to keep an eye on him?”

“No,” Itachi answers, watching the steady flow of Naruto-sennin’s chakra as if mesmerized by the power. “I just… want to know more about him.”

The pause from Shisui is almost enough to make Itachi turn to check on him. “You… do?”

Itachi nods. “He knew about us. Facts he could have learned through spying like Asuma’s smoking and stories he could have easily created for the sake of infiltration and gaining trust.”

Knowing his cousin well enough, Shisui hears the way Itachi let’s his words fall away. “But?”

“But he loves us.”

Then there’s a flicker. Naruto-sennin’s eyes don’t open and he doesn’t move, but Itachi saw the unbalance of his chakra well enough. He’s listening. 

“There’s no lie strong enough to make someone look like he did when he faced us,” Itachi tells Shisui, knowing every word is raining down on Naruto-sennin’s ears. “The pain in his eyes when he faced Kakashi-taichou… He said he’d never even seen Hokage-sama alive before that moment.” Shisui turns his attention to the boy on the forest floor all alone, dropping his legs over the side of their branch to watch with Itachi. “If there is an evil dark enough to create those emotions, then I pity it. Naruto-sennin, however, I respect.”

A chuckle ascends around them, the sound bitten away by the leaves and hushed with Naruto-sennin’s quick close of his lips. Itachi doesn’t move, even as Shisui shifts beside him uncomfortably. 

“Sennin, eh?” 

Itachi hitches a shoulder in a fraction of a shrug. “It’s fitting.”

Naruto-sennin inhales, his chest rising with a purposeful breath before he opens his eyes and cranes his neck up to the two Uchiha in the trees. “I think I like it.”

Silence stretches between them as Itachi meets Naruto-sennin’s eyes and they watch each other in the dim night. He’s older than Itachi, taller and with a presence of heart that reads clearly across his face. Closer to Shisui’s age, Itachi supposes, and even seems to show them pieces of a humor that’s probably a shadow of what it once was considering the brokenness he’d so easily shown to them back on the battlefield.

What parts of Itachi’s heart show on his face?

Suspicion, probably, if he’s judging based on the gentle prodding remarks from his fellow shinobi and senseis who have passed him off throughout the years-- he’s never lingered at any given level long enough to have a teacher raise him up alongside them. The hesitancy that so many others see as off putting, that brings them to tell Itachi to cheer up or speak up, is more of a constant state of doubt. Until Itachi knows the truth, he will not commit to a guess. With missions that can be an entirely different story, but with his person he will not fall to one side or the other of an issue without a sureness of where he stands. Maybe that’s what keeps others from ever drawing too close to him, ever really getting to know him. 

An elbow stabs into his side and Itachi wavers before sliding his eyes away from Naruto-sennin for the first time. Shisui is unfazed. “Itachi,” he whines, throwing up his arms completely at his wits. “I’ve never seen you like this, cousin.”

“If I had to guess,” Naruto-sennin’s voice calls their attention back to the ground, “Itachi is probably thinking about… his brother.” The flinch in his voice is mirrored with a microexpression beneath his eye as it fights a twitch that Itachi can see clearly with Sharingan still active. Naruto-sennin relaxes his position, letting his posture fall from his meditative state. “Though I guess I’ve only really met you twice before this so I could be wrong.”

Shisui seems to absorb this before stiffening. “Wait, Sasuke?!” 

Itachi watches the name impact Naruto-sennin more than any shinobi presence managed to on the battlefront. It was true that beneath a tentative curiosity about how Itachi might have ever became a missing nin with such bloodshed on his record there was an ache to know about his little brother. In this shinobi world of pain and war and tactics and missions there was only one surety in Itachi’s life: Sasuke. And for Sasuke, Itachi would do anything. 

Coupled with the idea that Naruto-sennin’s home world was more of a parallel than a completely different entity, which Itachi had no proof of beyond a blind hope, that would mean this Naruto was the same age as  _ that  _ Sasuke, the same way that Hokage-sama’s son was also four like his own little brother. 

When Naruto-sennin had turned to him in the clearing, nothing he’d said about him was personal. Obito-san killed his friends, Asuma-san’s death burdened someone close to him, Kakashi-san was his lost teacher he was still grieving for, and the Yondaime was the father he’d never known. For Itachi, he was simply another shinobi in a war-torn life of countless shinobi. And yet when Naruto-sennin had looked into Itachi’s eyes to tell him about his defection, the waves of mourning and an endless fever of something missing was painted across his face as clearly as his current determination had smoothed and stilled his rough edges now. 

Itachi wants to know Naruto-sennin-- wants to know what happened to Naruto-sennin’s Sasuke. 

Naruto-sennin pulls himself up to stand one leg at a time, his eyes fading away into the sleeping forest ahead. Ghosts whisper across the shadows on his cheeks, dripping into the chakra that surrounds him and waning into the night as they disappear. He turns back toward camp, stopping just on the edge of Itachi’s line of sight and says, “Be glad you have your Sasuke, Itachi Uchiha.”

  
  


Minato is awake when Naruto returns to the huddle of trees that currently house a dozen sleeping ninjas, just one squadron mobilized in small groups to travel lighter on the way back to Konoha. He’s not on watch, there are shinobi up above for that, working in brief rounds. Besides, no one would dare ask the Hokage to take up guard duty while the rest of them slept. But Naruto knows the weight of leadership well after the last few years and when his eyes lock onto a scruffy mane of blond hair leaning back against the base of a tree, he doesn’t pause. 

Naruto dips his chin in a polite acknowledgement, standing at his father’s outstretched feet and ignores it when he waves the respectful gesture away. He falls into a crouch beside Minato, two fingers dipping between his knees to hold him steady against the worn grass. In a hush, he reports the findings of his meditation within the headspace of the bijuu, “Kurama found Naruto.”

As expected, Minato’s eyes fly open wide and the desperation behind them makes something in Naruto’s chest lurch. “Where?”

“North. Not far,” he says, willing himself to hold the stare of his father who fiercely looks back at him brimming with the longing to find the son that isn’t him. “I’ll take a small team while you lead everyone else back to Konoha.”

“Like hell. I’m going with you.” The sharpness of his words is so foreign from the gentle voice that Naruto’s heard so far. Even back in the days of regeneration, there was never so much violence in his speech, more just… promise. “Kakashi can take them back.”

“Kakashi can take who back?”

Naruto and Minato both snap a look up at Kakashi who waves down at them with a two-fingered salute and an eye crinkle. 

But Naruto brushes him off completely and returns his attention to his father. He scans him-- all wild eyes and undiluted fear for the fate of his young child. Naruto sighs. “You can come too, I guess.”

“The  _ Hokage _ can ‘come too’ you  _ guess _ ?” Kakashi smarts, shifting in his peripherals as if it could make Naruto peel his eyes from Minato for even a moment. 

“We need to be able to get in fast and quiet and leave faster and quieter,” Naruto continues on, ignoring Kakashi-sensei despite how an old part of himself wishes he had the time or energy to play along with his once-teacher. “I know you’re the flash and all, but your kunai aren’t exactly subtle.”

Minato doesn’t miss a beat. “Perfect job for an Uchiha or two.”

“I want to take Itachi and Kamui,” Naruto says, already nudging at Kurama for more information on where he found the Kyuubi of this world only to receive a sharp nip of teeth in answer while Kurama continues to meditate internally.

Minato raises a brow, but remains quiet while considering. Kakashi, on the other hand, does not. “His name is  _ Obito _ .”

“Yeah, well,” Naruto bites back, unable to cut off the torrent of emotion the man’s name thrums to the surface of his blood, “it’s gonna be awhile before I can say that name again, alright?”

Kakashi is not appeased. He slips his hands into the loose pockets of his pants and tilts his head, silver hair dipping in the dark. “You want him to go on a mission with you and risk his life by your side but you can’t even call him by name?”

Phrased that way… it’s a punch to the gut. 

“I--” he starts, lowering his second hand to the ground, burying his fingers in the grass to scrape his nails along the dirt. “I know that the  _ Obito _ you know isn’t the same man I’ve fought dozens of times, barely scraping by alive when so many of my friends weren’t so lucky. I know that. I just… need some time.” 

“I’m okay with that.” Naruto whips his head around to see Obito standing warily away, carefully tucked at Kakashi’s back and away from his own-- an intentional move no doubt. Kakashi-sensei and Minato seem as surprised as he is and Obito drifts his gaze between the three of them. “I’ll go get Itachi.”

Minato nods to him gently and the Uchiha is retreating into the shadows of the Konoha forest trees once more. The Hokage turns his attention to Kakashi. “You and Shisui lead Genma, Rin, and Tsume’s squadrons to Konoha at dawn.” Kakashi-sensei is impassive other than the subtle acknowledgement in a single shift of his head. Minato glances at Naruto before looking back at his student with what looks like a bashful smile. “Shikaku will be waiting for a briefing.”

Though Kakashi’s face doesn’t change, it also seems to darken. 

By the time Obito returns with Itachi, Minato is on his feet and casting wild eyes to the north. Naruto steps up to his side, feeling a strange wave of aching warmth in his throat at the nearness to his father before he says, “Let’s move.”

  
  


Obito is  _ not  _ a murderer. 

Obviously. 

He’s the guy who takes the scenic route to work to make sure there are no lost children or cats who need saving from the daunting height of a Fire Country tree before reporting in for a new mission to service his village. He checks in on his team on their off days and has called every one of his squadmates friends. He’s an elite Jounin and the Hokage calls on him personally for sensitive assignments quite often.

He’s worked hard as hell to become who he is today. 

Still, there was an unmistakable viral quality to the  _ pain  _ in the teenaged Naruto’s eyes when he’d glared at him with such rage and such insurmountable grief and asked him if  _ he _ \-- if  _ Obito _ \-- was loyal to the Leaf. Obito would put his life on the line for the village any day of the week and he’ll do it again until fate finally settles. But the eyes of this stranger that Obito’s only known before in a child and his Hokage were clear and precise and  _ damning _ . 

Obito has no doubt that this Naruto has also put his life on the line for the village a thousand times over. 

The leaves sweep by in a blur, taps of the branches beneath his feet merely an impression rather than a sound as they all zoom silently through the trees. Minato-sama is the fastest shinobi Obito knows, even without his hiraishin jutsu in play, and yet their collective pace has been set to his son from another life, another world. From behind they look nearly identical, this new Naruto wearing a dark haori not unlike the Hokage robe billowing around Minato-sama as the two lead the way. Beacons of blonde hair shared between them are the only signs of life in their otherwise muted chase through the woods. 

Itachi is just ahead and despite the number of missions Obito has been on with his distant cousin in the last year he’s been an active Jounin, it’s still hard to fight the shroud of protectiveness that looms over his shoulders when the boy is nearby. But the ten-year-old has never seemed to bother with such thoughts of worry over his own well-being.

It doesn’t help Obito’s apprehension. 

He remembers what Itachi had said to him and Shisui back at the camp when he’d gone to fetch him. The two Uchiha had been sitting up in a tree, eyes lingering on the forest floor below as if they were looking far beyond the sticks and mud. 

“It’s alright, Shisui; I’ll be with Naruto-sennin.”

Not  _ I’ll be with the Hokage  _ or even  _ I’ll have Obito with me _ , but instead Itachi had chosen this utter stranger to place his trust. It was the highest regard Itachi could have given someone and placing that faith in the hands of the Naruto that Itachi seemed to believe was indeed a Sage sent Obito reeling. Because if Naruto-sennin was really this Son of the Sage and he believes Obito to be a mass murdering psychopath then… who was Obito to say he was wrong?

Except that of course he was wrong. 

Obito loves his village, his family, his friends. Nothing could change that. Not even the poisonous words of the second-coming of the Sage of Sixth Paths. 

Right?

His head hurts. 

Naruto-sennin’s hand pulls up behind his back and Obito doesn’t stop to let it sink in that the timespace travelling stranger knows Anbu code before slowing and falling in as the sign directs. Without needing a command, he scouts toward their rear while Itachi checks their right, Minato-sama venturing to the left before they all come together on a single, steady branch. 

“Any further and they’ll sense our chakra,” Naruto-sennin says, voice low as he tears his eyes from the smattering of endless leaves along their path to glance at each of them. “There are four of them. Two with Naruto and two hidden in their flanks. None of them should hinder any of us for long. This should be quick.”

Instead of asking how he can sense them so clearly from so far away, Obito nods along with Itachi and the Yondaime. Watching his Hokage slip so easily into a role of taking orders rather than giving them raises the hairs on the back of his neck, but he listens with them anyway. 

“Itachi and Obito,” Naruto-sennin says his name slowly, purposefully and Obito meets his eyes as a wave of understanding rushes over him. “You two split up and take the flanks. Flair your chakra if you need backup.” They nod and he turns his attention to the Hokage, the briefest hesitation twitching at his lips before he speaks again. “I’ll assume that Naruto has your seal on him but something has prevented your chakra from reaching it?”

Minato-sama nods, his eyes darkening. “He’s been gone for nearly two weeks,” he tells the teenaged version of his son. “If this is where they are now, I’d say they’ve been hiding out within Konoha and waiting for an opening to flee with him. Wherever they had him must have blocked chakra from getting in or out.”

“I would agree,” he answers and Obito watches the steadiness in their matching bright blue eyes as their faces morph into perfect mirror images. “I’ll keep one alive for questioning. If they could hide inside our walls for this long then we need to sniff out who helped them do it. You two, do your worst.”

_ Traitors _ , Obito thinks with no amount of sympathy. 

Naruto-sennin levels his other-world father and doppleganger with a look. “I’ll take care of the nin. You get Naruto and get back here.” With a slip of his hand, he pulls out a kunai and carves a tiny tick on the side of their branch beside his feet before rounding on all of them with the eyes of a general. “This is where we’ll meet. This mission’s focus is speed. In and out. No lingering, fighting, and no toying with them. Make your kill and return here. Got it?”

Obito doesn’t miss the way he lets his attention fall on Itachi with the gentleness of heart that Obito himself feels every time Itachi’s missions involve more death. He’s much too young and Naruto-sennin knows it, but he also seems like he might know Itachi’s skill with long range shuriken. He shouldn’t have to get his hands bloody. 

“Hai,” they all chorus before they’re whispers in the wind.

  
  


Naruto was expecting to encounter the Akatsuki, if he’s being honest, and the fact that the group of shinobi rapidly coming into view with a limp child version of himself strapped to one’s back aren’t even  _ close  _ to being S-class missing nin comes as a bizarre relief with traces of disappointment. Figuring out what exactly has become of the terrorist organization in this parallel universe will have to come later, apparently. 

Leaving Minato in the trees, Naruto sails forward on a new burst of chakra, and when one of the two figures disappears in a shunshin, he’s unsurprised. Already twisting in the air, he reaches back just as a kunai is thrust forward toward his spine and grabs the arm of his attacker before flipping him over his head until they’re beneath him and Naruto is crashing down with his feet directly on the point of connection between their head and neck. Pushing off amidst the liquidy crack of the foreign shinobi’s throat he flies to the second threat who has conspicuously lost their unconscious ward. The last of their signs connect and then they’re crouching down with two palms to the ground. Naruto feels for their chakra, slipping to the left as the wave of earth rises in shattered groans of rock.

He can play cat and mouse all day, really, but the idea that these shinobi aren’t anything above an average Jounin level sends something curling through his blood. There’s only one place he can think of where they could have hidden without fear of being caught inside Konoha-- one person he can think to blame. 

The black-clad shinobi’s mask is as unidentifying as the rest of him and, Naruto thinks to himself with a ghost of a chuckle, someone should really tell him how limited his peripherals are. The nin comes into view through the dust of dirt before his own shadow clone that’s currently holding back a katana with the single kunai he’d managed to keep up with through his shifts in dimensions-- or, well, a copy of it. In a few brief strides, he’s waylaying into the shinobi with a side-palm to the temple and they’re instantly limp. 

This was too easy, Naruto thinks with a hint of foreboding. 

After a few ministrations with the wraps kept around his leg and bicep, the foreign shinobi is restrained and Naruto is flying back through the trees until he lands softly beside his father. Obito returns shortly after and Naruto throws his captive down on the branch, draping him shamelessly with his head and legs dangling from either side. 

Naruto turns to Obito who raises a brow. “Can you send him into your Kamui until we can get him to Intelligence?”

Minato, who Naruto thought would be more or less despondent while clutching onto the still unconscious form of the child version of himself, snaps his head up, looking between Naruto and Obito. “Into it?”

Naruto grits his teeth, feeling the weight of Obito’s slow-forming glare. So maybe that was supposed to be a secret? Oh well. Too late now. 

Obito opens his mouth, but pauses, snapping it shut with a frown. “I-- I’ve never put anything in there,” he admits and Naruto realizes this might actually be a sore spot. “I’ve never even stayed in myself… Only long enough to get from one place to another.” Then the lines around his eyes relax a bit as he looks back at Naruto. “Are you telling me that it’s safe to keep things inside?”

Naruto doesn’t miss a beat, especially considering there’s a knocked out child thief still out cold beside him who could potentially wake up at any moment. “Yeah. I’ve fought you in there and witnessed as many as four people being held inside at a time, though from my experience you could keep in as many as you have the chakra to retrieve.”

Obito flickers his eyes over his face, as if looking for any signs of deceit before settling something in himself and turning his attention to the incapacitated shinobi. The deep crimson of the Sharingan comes to life in a blink and then the world starts to spin and swirl around the body until it’s slowly dragged away leaving nothing behind. One more blink and the Sharingan is stowed away just in time for Itachi to drop down in its place. 

All eyes turn to Minato where he’s pressed his back to the tree trunk, his arms cradling the small body of his son. 

“Is he okay?” Itachi asks, his voice somber with an edge fresh from a fight, though not a hair is out of place on him. 

Minato’s answering grin is small, but victorious as it curves up one cheek. “Yeah, he’s just asleep. Breathing is steady. Vitals are good.”

Naruto nods, watching the gentle stroke of his father’s hand on his younger self’s cheek. “Let’s get him home then.” 

When no one instantly argues, he rises and leaps from the tree onto the next, quickly fueling up his feet with chakra to make the journey back. None of them have slept since the battle against Kumo yesterday, but if they can keep as close to their pace on the way to find this world’s Naruto then they should be able to make it back by midnight tonight. That said, Naruto is well aware of the hindrances that travelling with the injured can bring and he finds himself hoping that the boy stays asleep long enough to make it back. Extra weight will slow them down a little. A four-year-old version of himself will slow them down a  _ lot _ . 

That fact is sadly proven to him when the sun sets before they’re halfway home and the boy wakes up just after they’d settled on making camp and chosen watch shifts. And, because fate loves to mock him, Naruto is the one on the first shift. 

Chibi Naruto stirs from beneath his father’s arms just as Naruto returns from a scouting lap around the perimeter and their eyes meet in the darkness. 

Fuck. 

Chibi Naruto narrows his eyes at him before carefully slipping his father’s arm down to the ground and sliding across the forest floor to cross his legs and  _ somehow _ look condescending despite being currently a third of Naruto’s height. The chibi scans the other sleeping shinobi around them before returning his attention to the  _ stranger  _ and all Naruto can think about is that this kid was practically asking to be kidnapped. 

But he can’t exactly tell anyone that because he  _ is  _ that kid.

“Who are you?”

Naruto should really wake someone else up to deal with this. 

But there’s a tail of curiosity in him rising and he crouches down to be closer to the chibi’s level. “I’m you. From the future.”


	3. Chapter 3

When Minato wakes, it’s in an immediate fit of panic. Where there was a warm comfort of his son pressed against his chest and wrapped up in his arms, there’s now nothing but cold, empty air. He scrambles, pressing a hand to the dirt of the forest floor, clawing at twigs as he sits up, fully alert. Obito is still sleeping against the base of a tree and Itachi is sitting criss-cross beside him, watching Minato almost as if he was… waiting for him to wake up. 

Minato frowns and Itachi points a single finger up into the trees above them. There, seated on the lowest branch, are both Narutos. Minato’s mouth falls open and he stands, not bothering to brush off the lingering debris of the woods from his clothes or to grab his neatly folded Hokage robe from where he’d used it for a pillow. 

“Not yet,” Minato hears from Naruto-sennin. His patient, playful tone makes the Chibi Naruto kick his feet where they hang beside him. “But it takes some time to get as good as dad, so it’s okay. Our time will come, dattebayo!” 

“Whoooa,” his son’s higher pitched voice carries down to camp. “Is dad really that strong?”

“Oh yeah,” Naruto-sennin confirms. “Where I come from, he’s saved the whole village in  _ one move…  _ Twice!” 

“Wow!” Chibi Naruto cheers, a soft clap of his hands ringing down. “What about me? Do we save the village, Naru-niisan?” 

A full bellied laugh grows around them and below Minato glances over at Obito as he cracks open one eye and then the other before tilting up his ear to listen along. “How long have they been at it?”

Itachi doesn’t look at the other Uchiha when he answers, watching the twin Narutos instead. “All night. I was supposed to have the second watch and they were walking the perimeter with Naruto-chan on Naruto-sennin’s back. I offered to patrol so they could relax and they’ve been up there ever since. I… didn’t see the need to wake either of you.”

“Well,” the catchingly soft, drawling voice of the older Naruto trails down, interrupting them, “Yeah, kid. We do.”

“Al _ right _ !” his little son cheers through a yawn and Minato can practically see the triumphant fist poised in the air above him, wavering with sleepy enthusiasm. And then a small back comes into his line of sight as the young Naruto sways and a teenaged hand is there, steadying him. Another laugh from Naruto-sennin and the hand slides until the elder is lifting the chibi up with him as he stands. His son rubs at his eyes blearily before resting his face down on the teenager’s shoulder only to drop his gaze until it meets with Minato’s. “Dad! Dad, can Naru-niisan come home with us?”

The smile that grows on Minato is like nothing he’s ever felt before. His son is safe and back with him and… his second son is here as well. It’s silly, really, to attach to him. It makes no sense at all and yet it makes complete sense. And the way he heard the teenager talk about him to his younger self…  _ “This is the first time I’ve seen you alive.”  _ The words still sing true in his mind, but here he is, shielding his younger self and talking up their dad just like… brothers. Minato watches  _ Naru-niisan  _ dip his chin to look back, his face nearly pressed against Chibi Naruto’s, before smiling sheepishly and pivoting around to face them. 

This new Naruto might be the Son of the Sage, he might be the strongest shinobi Minato has met in a long, long time, but he’s still a boy who grew up without a father-- without  _ him _ . 

So he answers sincerely, his grin matched in both boys. “Of course.”

Shikaku is going to kill him. 

The trek back to Konoha is blissfully eventless, though Minato is more than aware of Naruto-sennin’s hypervigilance even with a sleeping four-year-old clinging to him at their moderately brisk pace. When the gates finally loom overhead, he notices the widened eyes of the doubled guard in the tower, but no one dares hesitate to open the city doors for the Hokage. Once they’re within the warding seals around the perimeter, Minato pauses and his three charges fall in, waiting. 

“Obito, meet with Chouza, Rin, Tsume, and Kakashi to debrief on their situation. Assist if there’s a need, then report back to me. Itachi, send word to the clan heads of a meeting this evening in my home. Your crows will be fine, but keep your missives brief and emphasize the need for stealth.” Both Uchiha’s offer a sharp nod and a final glance at Naruto-sennin before disappearing in the wind. Then, he turns to the teenaged version of his son. “I assume you know how to shunshin and where the Hokage’s office is?”

“Yeah.” A bitter smile tugs at a corner of the boy’s lips and he hoists Chibi Naruto higher on his hip. He glances down at the sleeping child before peeping back up at Minato. “Sorry for keeping him up all night… I wasn’t really thinking.”

“It’s alright,” Minato says, quicker than he’d meant to. “I think he enjoyed himself.” 

When Naruto-sennin’s form starts to disappear, almost disguising the way a drop of bitterness slips away from his smile, Minato leans on his hiraishin to beat the boy to his office. Though when he reappears neatly behind his desk, ready to show off a winning smirk at the teen, sure enough, Shikaku is there to remind him of reality all too soon. Shikaku’s stress lines have really deepened over the last five years, Minato thinks with a desperately hidden sigh. He tries to adjust his grin to something mildly appeasing, but the moment Naruto-sennin appears an arm’s length from Shikaku on the other side of his desk all hope is lost. 

Shrewd as he is, Shikaku manages to not jerk back or launch directly into an attack at the stranger, for which Minato is eternally grateful, however his unflinching form, crossed arms, and narrowed eyes levelled directly at Minato do not seem much more promising. 

“Ah, Shikaku!” Minato tries to sound cheerful and not at all like he invited a hostile unknown shinobi claiming to be from the future and/or another dimension into the Hokage’s office, but it’s a rather specific sort of tone for his currently stressed register. “I see you’re up to date.”

His Jounin Commander and top advisor doesn’t spare a look toward the newcomer. “I’m glad you retrieved your son, Minato.” 

He regrets telling Shikaku to drop the ‘Lord’ business after hearing how utterly damning his regular name sounds at the end of that sentence. Minato shifts on his feet as the tension descends on the room. Naruto-sennin stands firmly at attention, though the chibi in his arms starts to squirm, apparently feeling the atmosphere as well. A small fist raises up to rub a tired blue eye before looking around the room. 

“Tou-san?” The sleepy voice of his son has his heart instantly bounding forward out of his chest and the older Naruto must sense it too, because he edges toward a path around the large wooden desk with questioning eyes rising to Minato’s. He gestures the teen forward, but Chibi Naruto looks up and seemingly remembers who’s holding him and grabs at the neck of Naruto-sennin’s haori. “Naru-niisan! Naru-niisan, we’re back!” 

He chuckles in response, a weak dry thing, and gloss rises over in his eyes before he raises a hand to the cheek of the boy looking up at him full of mirth. After a breath of hesitation, the older boy swipes a thumb across the whisker marks of his younger self and the air in the room shifts into something thick and tangible. “Yeah, kid,” he says. “We’re back.”

“Are you gonna live with us now?” Chibi Naruto asks, his voice ten levels louder than the older version’s had been. He whips his head around to Minato. “Dad, Dad! Naru-niisan is gonna come live with us now right? That’s what you said right?”

Minato sighs out loud this time and opens his arms to signal for his son while, at the same time, flaring his chakra. Chibi Naruto delicately crawls out of Naruto-sennin’s arms and crosses the side of the desk to step into Minato’s hold as he lifts him up. Shikaku meets Minato’s eyes in a meaningful glance just as Genma slips in through the door behind them. “Why don’t you go see Shikamaru, huh? I bet he’s missed you.”

“Shika!” Chibi Naruto cheers, turning to Genma with an understanding of how these circumstances usually play out. “Can we go see if Sasuke can play too?”

Minato pats down unruly blond hair on his son, feeling the weight of his fingers as they glide over the whiskers on his cheek-- something he’s done out of habit for so long now, yet after seeing the tender way Naruto-sennin tried it for himself, he can’t help that it holds a little more meaning. “You’ll have to be very good for Aunt Yoshino and ask her nicely to see if Aunt Mikoto isn’t too busy.”

“Yes, tou-san,” the boy repeats dutifully before Minato gives him one last squeeze and sets him down. He runs for Genma, halting completely as he passes by Naruto-sennin to aggressively hug both of his legs, and then he’s swooped out of the room with nothing more than a lazy salute from Minato’s regular Anbu guard. 

There’s a pregnant pause in the wake of his exit and the three men look to one another, though, Minato can admit, they’re mostly staring at him. Waiting. 

_ He’s my son. _

That’s what Minato wants to say, what he wants to force Shikaku to recognize and believe. But he knows better. There’s a very real part of him a bit afraid of speaking those words in front of the teenager at this point. Minato struggles to manage a four year old on his best days, a teenager is an adult in their village with a life of their own and, really, this Naruto doesn’t need Minato for anything from this point onward. Still, he can remember the shattering veil of heartache in Naruto-sennin’s eyes when he told Minato he’d never seen him alive before, the little passing glances that dropped an immediate weight on Minato’s shoulders, the way he stayed up all night talking to his younger self, made friends with him even, and carried him home. 

So Minato straightens himself, shifting his face into the stern mask of the Hokage and looks up at the two men across the desk from him. “Considering the fact that you are not within any bingo books I am aware of, Naruto-sennin, as the Yondaime Hokage, I offer you shelter in Konoha should you be seeking such a thing.”

Shikaku doesn’t make a move, doesn’t even turn toward their guest, only stares at Minato with the calculating gaze he’s come to know so well in his years as Hokage. He’s planning, plotting, thinking twelve steps ahead of them and trying to identify the wisest course of action. Minato is grateful for it, but wary. 

Naruto-sennin lifts his chin almost imperceptibly. “The Hidden Leaf is my home. It always has been. Nothing would make me happier than to stay.” Minato warms at the acceptance, but Naruto-sennin isn’t finished. “That said, I’ve told you my origins. I came here to prevent the future I know of and will do whatever it takes to prevent this village, and all the others, from falling the same way. Maybe I am foolish for wanting to include you, rather than wandering alone like nothing more than a mercenary, but… I couldn’t leave you behind from the moment I saw you. All of you. I am strong, but I am not that strong.”

Minato tries to drink that in, but all he can think is that this boy can’t be older than eighteen.  _ Fourteen years _ . Fourteen years and Minato’s little boy who rallies up a group to eat ramen and sneaks in and out of his work meetings like it’s a game… becomes this person. Feels this burden. 

“We cannot allow you to so freely commit murder without reason,” Shikaku states clearly, interrupting Minato’s thoughts. “There would have to be strategies in place to prepare for and prevent the events you speak of. If we choose to believe you, then you would work closely with Minato and I in organizing a solution to the evils of your… future.”

Minato doubts Shikaku truly believes the report that Naruto-sennin is the Chibi Naruto that the village knows well sent back in time to save the Elemental Nations, but Shikaku is one to proceed rationally, knowing that to argue with insanity is insanity itself. It’s more likely Shikaku will devise a series of tests before trusting a word from this Naruto’s mouth and there’s no telling whether Naruto-sennin will abide by such formalities, especially considering he supposedly just left the belly of war. 

But when Minato turns to see the boy’s reaction, Naruto-sennin is smiling. It’s thin around the edges, fragile, but brighter than anything else Minato has seen from the teenager since they first met. Even Shikaku looks over, raising a brow full of dread at what might have sparked such a thing. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Naruto-sennin says, rubbing a hand over his face and pulling at his lips as if he can remove the smile right off his cheeks. “It’s just… you sound just like him.”

“Excuse me?” Shikaku responds much too quickly for his natural temperament and the room stiffens. 

Naruto-sennin is unfazed, as usual. “Your son was one of my best friends. The two of us led the ends of the war together, me as the muscle and him as the brain. The two of you,” he gestures between Minato and Shikaku, “remind me of us. I… miss him.”

Minato thinks of every time his Chibi Naruto sees Shikamaru, sprinting for the grumpy boy and springing on him with a  _ Shika! Shika! _ like he’s the best friend in the world. To think that such a friendship exists elsewhere… That it transcends… 

“He’s gonna kick my ass for saying that though,” Naruto-sennin laughs, raising a hand to the back of his neck. “The last thing he said to me was ‘don’t tell my dad’. Whoops.”

Shikaku stares at Naruto-sennin for a long, long moment before he turns back to Minato. “He’ll likely need a consultation with Inoichi--”

“No.”

Naruto-sennin’s head snaps to Minato and Shikaku gives off the airs of a very explicit eye roll without having to move a muscle. 

Minato doesn’t waver. Because this… this is his  _ son _ . “I won’t have his mind probed through like--”

“It’s okay,” Naruto-sennin says. “I don’t have anything to hide. Though… it would be better for Inoichi if he weren’t the one to do it.”

_ Ino _ . 

A chill races over Minato’s limbs and he grits his teeth. “Fine,” he says, “but only because of your consent. We’ll have an assistant gather your Jounin and Anbu paperwork as well as adding you to our bingo book--”

“You’d make him an Anbu Jounin just like that?” Shikaku questions, though it falls flat. Minato knows Shikaku heard Kakashi and Obito’s report-- heard what Naruto-sennin is capable of. 

“Of course,” Minato continues. “And if he will be working with us on the mission toward preventing his future from becoming ours, then we will need our bases covered. I have a meeting with the clan heads set for tonight at my home after dinner. We can start his processing tomorrow along with a full debriefing on his… future.” No matter how many times they talk about it, that part will just never stop being weird. “We’ll reconvene in the morning. Agreed?”

Naruto-sennin nods with the same tight motions of any shinobi in the Hokage’s office and a bubble of pride blooms in Minato’s chest that he hadn’t expected. Shikaku, on the other hand, is looking rather hesitant. Minato raises a brow at him and gestures out a hand.

“Speak freely, Shikaku.”

The man lets his brows knit for the first time since they appeared in the room and Minato pauses internally, realizing whatever Shikaku is thinking must be serious to him-- serious enough to break apart his always perfectly pieced together facade of disinterest.

Shikaku turns to Naruto-sennin and opens his mouth as if to address the teenager, but stops, closes his mouth, and tries again. “Why tell us so much about our own futures? Won’t that knowledge disturb your home timeline, if I am to believe such a thing exists?”

Naruto-sennin, bless him, laughs. “That’s kinda the point, isn’t it?”

Frowning, Shikaku watches the boy. “So you don’t plan to return then?”

Minato can almost  _ feel  _ Naruto-sennin’s insides twisting with the face he makes, his light-hearted attitude slipping away at last and his features falling into a lingering, precarious limbo. 

“No,” he says. “I have nothing and no one to go back to. Not anymore.”

They all seem to want to let that sink in. 

But then Naruto-sennin somehow manages to light a weak grin back onto his face and Minato can’t help but wonder how many times he’s done that before. 

He looks at them both, brings a fist to his heart, and says, “But that just means that when you offer me refuge in Konoha, my acceptance is genuine. I will call your home mine and I will protect it with my life, dattebayo!”

For whatever reason, all thoughts of possessing the strength of the Son of the Sage, the one all the bijuu seem to revere and respect residing within their borders, seem so very small in comparison to having Naruto as a citizen of the Hidden Leaf.

Minato’s deep breath is the only sound in the room. “Okay. Tomorrow then.”

  
  


Sasuke argues over having ramen for lunch, pouts even. Itachi can’t blame him, really, considering he prefers soba himself, but when the opportunity to accompany the Yondaime to lunch arises, Itachi will not be refusing. And if Itachi is going, Sasuke is more than willing to tag along-- aside from the reluctance the boy seems to have for sharing attention. A sore spot for his four year old brother, it seems. 

Itachi understands, but there’s little he can do to help besides dote on his otouto when he can. 

It helps. Usually. 

The three boys dance around Itachi in sloppy blurs of play. Hiccuping laughs eddy around them, touching on the ears of passerbyers who turn and wave to the notable children, though Itachi is the only one paying enough attention to wave back. He doesn’t. 

All grudges over the choice of meal seem to be forgotten as Sasuke has been thoroughly lured into Naruto’s game. Shikamaru simply dodges them as they turn circles around Itachi, even as he continues to walk through the streets of Konoha. Okaa-san and Yoshino-san have trusted Itachi with the three of them, so he is vigilant as he leads them along and relieved when three figures turn a corner ahead, Ichiraku’s house of ramen set aside on the road between them. 

Shikamaru sees them first and perks, but forces his hands into his pockets in reflection of his father across from him. Sasuke and Naruto don’t notice until they’ve met in the middle. Sasuke halts, dropping his arm extended to tag Naruto slowly before slipping to Itachi’s side, one hand clutching onto his shinobi standard issue pants. 

Naruto, however, shines. 

“Tou-san! Naru-niisan!” he shrieks, bounding toward the huddle of three men and Itachi doesn’t miss the way Shikaku-san’s eyes flicker away from his son to gather the reactions of anyone within earshot. Chibi Naruto leaps at his counterpart who swiftly raises him up and tosses him in the air. “We’re gonna have ramen!” the chibi giggles. “Naru-niisan, do you like ramen? I love ramen. It’s my favorite.”

“Yeah, kid,” Naruto-sennin says, his smile broad and bright like the sun. He catches the falling boy and shifts, extending him toward his father and Minato-sama opens his arms naturally, Chibi Naruto reaching out on a pleasant instinct that reunites father and son. Once he’s settled on the Yondaime’s hip, Naruto-sennin shakes out the boy’s hair, tufts of blonde scattering above a chubby, still-giggling face. “Ramen’s my favorite too. Who do you think asked to have it for lunch?”

“That was you, nii-san?” Chibi Naruto gasps and his father chuckles lightly beside him. 

There’s a tug on Itachi’s hip and he looks down at Sasuke. 

“Naruto doesn’t have a big brother,” Sasuke says carefully, quietly, and he glances over at the other group as Shikamaru strolls over to his dad only to raise his arms tentatively and is picked up in an instant. Itachi lowers himself, crouching down to Sasuke’s level-- something that always makes Sasuke’s ire soften, his sharp, young eyes relax. 

“Sometimes brothers get lost,” Itachi says, watching every one of Sasuke’s timid blinks. “And sometimes they are found. But no matter what, they are brothers. Right, Sasuke?”

Sasuke watches him in wonder for a moment, absorbing Itachi’s newly spoken truth, and then he nods. “Yes, nii-san.”

Itachi smiles at that, the way he always smiles for Sasuke-- like he can’t help himself. Then he taps him on the forehead with two fingers, soft and quick, before tucking his hands beneath Sasuke’s arms and lifting him to his hip as he stands. “Next time… we’ll eat whatever we want, okay?”

“Yes! Thank you, nii-san!” Sasuke cheers, loud as he was when he was playing with Chibi Naruto. His little brother’s hands fall to either side of Itachi’s neck as he turns back to the others, letting his small grin fade away only to meet the wide eyes of Naruto-sennin, something foreign and devastating stricken across his features. 

“Naru-niisan! Naru-niisan!” Chibi Naruto slams a tiny fist down on the teenager’s shoulder in an erratic rhythm, frowning. “What’s wrong? Let’s go! Let’s go! Time for ramen!” 

The other adults notice the pause as well, but Naruto-sennin snaps out of it on his own, breaking away from looking at Itachi to hold up innocent hands to his younger self. “Maa, maa, Naruto-chan. I’m ready, I’m ready!”

They file in, commandeering four stools on the far side of the ramen bar, each with a preschooler in their laps, aside from Naruto-sennin who sits contentedly between Shikaku and Minato-sama. Itachi and Sasuke are on one side, a few chairs away from two Chuunin already midway through their soups. Sasuke asks him to practice throwing shuriken later and Chibi Naruto overhears, igniting a battle of Naruto inviting himself and Sasuke promptly and repeatedly uninviting him. 

Itachi listens to the adults pandering through mundane topics beside him. He learns that Naruto-sennin was never officially more than a Genin where he came from and that he possessed the toad summons back in his world, all before Ayame takes their orders in a rush and disappears to the kitchens once more. The fact that Minato-sama and Shikaku-san avoid the overlapping parts of the two times or dimensions does not go overlooked by Itachi. They’ve all noticed, it seems, that Naruto-sennin breaks a little behind his eyes every time someone close to Chibi Naruto is mentioned. Itachi wonders what about him consoling Sasuke painted grief on the Son of the Sage, but it’s likely better that Itachi never knows. 

_ You killed your entire clan. _

The words seem unbelievable, even now, but everything else that Naruto-sennin has said has felt true in every sense. Still, the sage definitely knew Sasuke where he came from. 

_ Be glad you have your Sasuke, Itachi Uchiha.  _

Itachi would be lying if he said he isn’t holding his brother a little tighter in his lap. 

A bellowing laugh draws all of their attention to the threshold of the kitchen and Itachi recognizes the owner as he appears, arms filled with steaming bowls and face smiling ear to ear as if he’s long been numb to the heat. He delivers them a bowl per stool, seconds already likely being prepared in the back, and when his hands are free again he waggles a finger at the boy in Minato-sama’s lap. “Naruto! Long time no see, my friend!”

“Teuchi! Teuchi!” And then Itachi feels a sudden tension fall over the men beside him. Minato-sama leans in to whisper something in Chibi Naruto’s ear, drawing up a hand to guide his small arm back down to his side. But he’s too late. “Look! I have a big brother!” 

Shikaku-san and Minato-sama visibly pale. 

Teuchi-san does not. Instead, he follows the child’s small arm to the shoulders of the teenager beside him and his eyes widen, corners of his mouth twisting upward. There’s a pause of breath and then he says, “My, my, Naruto. It seems you do.”

After an awkward pause, Naruto-sennin smiles up at the man across from the bar. “Hi.”

Chibi Naruto leans over to drop his head down on Naruto-sennin’s shoulder, grabbing for the open seam of his haori, and beams. “Nii-san, this is Teuchi! He makes ramen! He likes ramen as much as we do! And Teuchi! This is Naru-niisan!”

Naruto-sennin nods to the cook stiffly and brings up a hand to rest along the side of Chibi Naruto’s head, pressing his cheek to his crown fondly for a brief moment before straightening. “Nice to meet you, Teuchi-san.”

He says it formally, but Itachi can see it-- that shattered thing behind his eyes even as he smiles. 

“Teuchi,” the portly man corrects, grinning back softly. “Nice to meet you,  _ Naru-niisan _ .”

Naruto-sennin chuckles, shrugging a shoulder that has Chibi Naruto retreating to curl himself against his father’s chest. Teuchi turns his attention to the boy again and raises an eyebrow much too high to be genuine. “Now, are you sure you want me callin’ him that, Naruto? He’s  _ your  _ brother after all.”

Chibi Naruto seems to take this question to heart, twisting in place to glance at Minato-sama for a moment and then at Naruto-sennin before snapping back to Teuchi-san. “Of course you can, Teuchi! My big brother is the  _ best _ , so it’s only fair for the whole village to have him for a big brother too!” 

The chibi’s bold statement rolls over the group with the weight of a deep, spring rain and Itachi makes himself look away from Minato-sama’s eyes as they shine. Sasuke shifts in his lap, reaching up for Itachi’s collar and laying his head back against his chest in a rare public show of discomfort. 

But Naruto-sennin breaks it all with a laugh and his chibi otouto glows up at him. This time, when he reaches to fuss with the boy’s hair, Chibi Naruto climbs over onto his lap and turns that grin onto his father. Naruto-sennin wraps a protective arm around the boy’s middle and looks to Teuchi-san. “If it’s alright with Naruto, then it’s alright with me, dattebayo!” 

The atmosphere changes instantly. 

Probably, Itachi thinks, because of Naruto-sennin’s word choice, even if it would be beyond Teuchi-san’s understanding. Minato-sama chuckles, touching a quick thumb across his young son’s cheek while he smiles up at him. Shikaku-san watches them carefully, his eyes open a little wider, while Shikamaru and Sasuke make eye contact across from them all, apparently feeling a little left out on the information. 

The meal is smoother after that. There’s even a moment when every head is turned on Itachi, Minato-sama explaining to Naruto-sennin how the two of them train their weapons throwing together on occasion and Itachi brims with pride knowing the Hokage enjoys those early mornings with him. When it’s time to go again, Shikaku-san takes Shikamaru and Chibi Naruto with him after Sasuke says his goodbyes in half-baited attempts at sparring invitations. 

Sasuke is always light on Itachi’s back, even when he’s heavy, and as they make their way home to the Uchiha compound his little brother drifts to sleep with a cheek pressed to his shoulder and loose arms falling around his neck. Itachi doesn’t mind. 

He wouldn’t want to play big brother for the entire village, he decides. No, Itachi likes his only otouto just fine. 

He’s glad to have his Sasuke. 

  
  


Naruto has never seen his parents' house. Even if there had been pictures, by the time he knew where to look they would have been destroyed along with the entirety of Konoha two years ago. It’s small, humble, and tucked neatly away from the busier side of the village. The perfect place to raise a family. He doesn’t mean to stop steps away from the porch, doesn’t mean to stare. 

But his mother had lived in this house. 

And now, he lives here. He lives here in the form of a four year old boy who is proud of his village and his father, who has friends and is looked upon fondly as he roams through the streets leaving trails of his play everywhere he goes. 

It’s too much and yet it’s just right. 

Were it not for the battle he landed in and the kidnapping he’d ceased, Naruto would think he was lost in the depths of the infinite tsukuyomi, though, he supposes, then there likely wouldn’t be a Chibi Naruto. This would be his life and his life alone. 

It’s a sour thought. 

He and his young counterpart might both be Naruto, but they are two vastly different people. And, if coming here meant becoming Naru-niisan, then Naruto isn’t quite as bitter as he originally thought he would be. There’s just a little too much sweet when Chibi Naruto is around. 

Minato waits for him patiently, standing mid stride on the steps ahead. Naruto knows why. There’s a reason his father left his younger brother with Shikaku, why they’ve come back to the house instead of to the Hokage’s tower. And he’s alright with that, though the wound is still fresh, gaping open with the silent calls of mourning that spill out and shroud him. Still, if it means being Naru-niisan, if it means being here in this moment, with his father by his side, Naruto will do it. 

He’s already lost too much, already watched too many lose their everything, to make any other choice. 

So he sucks in a breath and follows his father inside. 

Minato makes tea without asking and Naruto finds a seat at the kitchen table without questioning him. When they’re both halfway through their first cup, Minato finally speaks from across the table. “My Anbu guard retrieved Naruto’s report on the way to drop him off with the Naras. He has no memories of an attack or being taken. He only knows he was asleep in bed one night and then he was waking up with us in the forest.”

“Good,” Naruto says, slowly becoming used to hearing his name used for another and more than happy to discuss work. “I have my assumptions of who took him.”

“As do I.”

Naruto raises a brow. “Oh?”

“Yes.” Minato glances down at his cup, tapping a finger against it to ripple its surface. “Do you know anything about Root?”

A huff of a laugh escapes him, fond memories of Sai sweeping through his mind as he forces away all the terrible ones. “I know quite a lot about Root. Danzo, too.”

“I see,” Minato says, the veil of the Hokage slipping onto his shoulders. “And how did your world deal with them?”

“We didn’t,” Naruto says, sliding down in his chair. “Not exactly. In the end, Sasuke hunted him down and slaughtered him for using Itachi to murder the entirety of the Uchiha clan.”

Minato stares at him for a long moment before bringing a hand to his brow and hissing through his teeth. “Hell.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I can’t arrest him for crimes in another world,” Minato says, still rubbing his forehead with a hand. “Let alone  _ kill  _ him.”

Naruto straightens. “If your Danzo is like my Danzo, he’s already done more than enough to warrant death. We’ll just need the proof.”

“Proof? Of what, Root? I’ve believed he never fully disbanded it after my orders for some time now, though I haven’t made any substantial progress toward that assumption.”

“He’s using children,” Naruto spits across the table, drawing up a fist and settling it just beside his cooling tea. “Children, Tou-san. They’re killing each other in caves beyond the Anbu tunnels. It’s… It’s evil.”

Minato’s eyes widen and then narrow dangerously. “We’ll need to prove it if he’s doing the same things here as he did in your world. But if there are more tunnels beneath Konoha, we will find them. We can discuss details and a strategy with the clan heads tonight.”

“Right.”

Silence settles over them again with that case closed and put away until later. The list of other marks on the long list of people who’ve hurt Naruto’s precious people unfolds in his mind and he realizes he will likely end up planning through all of those with his father as well. 

“I wanted to talk to you about your living arrangements,” Minato says finally. Naruto finds himself holding his breath, carefully reminding himself that he will survive well enough outside these walls and alone should the situation move to that. But Minato continues, “I know Naruto invited you to stay with us… but I don’t want you to feel obligated to. I, personally, would welcome you here. That said, I know that much of your experience has so far been… heavy, to say the least, on your heart. I can offer you Jounin housing or Anbu—”

“I would be glad to stay with you and otouto,” Naruto cuts in, trying to raise a smile to his face and though he knows that joy is there, the array of storm clouds looming over the beating thing in his chest doesn’t seem to allow it. 

Minato regards him, steepling his arms with elbows on the table and lacing his fingers together. “What— What happened to me?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. “Why wasn’t I there for you?”

Naruto closes his eyes, listening to a breath as it fills and empties in his lungs. “The first time I met you, you were a chakra impression inside Kurama’s seal. The second time you were reanimated by an enemy turned friend, and fought with us in the war for as long as you could.”

“But—,” Minato stumbles through the word too quickly, “But when you were young, when you were  _ my  _ Naruto. What did you… Why did I…”

Naruto raises a hand to silence him, aware of his heavy, downcast eyes as he looks across the table at his father. “You and mom died saving the village, saving me, when you sealed Kurama away.” He touches a hand to his belly and is glad Kurama seems to keep his attitude on the subject in check. “I understand it… even if I punched you the first time I saw you,” he laughs, dry and brittle. “I was on my own until my Genin team— until Sakura and Sasuke.”

Blue eyes flicker over Naruto’s face and he remembers, not for the first time today, that Minato is considered a genius as much as Kakashi-sensei or Itachi. He takes his time studying Naruto before rising up in his seat, less with the authority of the Hokage and more with the grace of a father. “I wish to carry the burden of mourning for your youth alongside you,” he says. “And as long as you’re here, as long as you want me, you will be mine as much as my Naruto is. I won’t leave you again.”

The words are a blow, an impact that rocks deep into his chest. Naruto thinks of his guilt, of all those left behind in his home timeline, all his dead. They deserve this, they deserve this second chance, this new life. But already he can see Sakura with her hands on her hips telling him that he’s not so special as to be the only one undeserving, and he sees Sasuke raising a condescending brow and asking if he’s really as stupid as Sasuke’s always thought. 

But this world is not a replacement for his old one, no, it is an extension. Naruto will never forget his precious people, even if he’s starting to make a few more. 

So finally, he says, “Thank you, Tou-san.”


	4. Chapter 4

The boys have miraculously fallen asleep by late afternoon. For Shikamaru, such a thing isn’t so impossible, but for Naruto to have ran through enough energy to warrant a few hours of rest, something has definitely happened. Yoshino watches them stretch out across the wooden floor, Shikamaru’s hair slipping from it’s binding and Naruto snoring softly into the small breadth of space between the two. Her hands are neat, proficient as they shuffle through the beginnings of supper, already prepared to stow away a portion for Shikaku after another late night working with the Yondaime. Thankfully, the Fourth Hokage is a family man or Yoshino is sure she’d be seeing her husband much, much less-- though the events that created Minato-sama’s softness in the face of his son are something she would have done anything to prevent. 

A dim chakra signature appears in her mind’s eye and she falters mid-slice of a carrot, glancing up at the thin sheet of a door across the room, sleeping boys between it and herself. She moves, smooth as the waters of a quiet evening stream, bypassing the preschoolers and waiting for the two gentle knocks that come before opening the door, senses wary, but not threatened. 

This chakra does not belong to her husband, nor any Nara, and feels both familiar enough not to alarm her, but unfamiliar enough that she can’t help but stiffen her spine as she slides open the door. Bright, teenaged eyes meet hers and she fights the twitch of her lips at the blatant similarities between him and the napping boy at her back. 

“Yoshino-san,” the boy says politely, the sun fading into shadows in the horizon behind him. He dips his chin in a small bow of respect. “Hokage-sama has sent me to bring Naruto home for dinner.”

Despite her suspicions of his honesty coupled with Genma’s unusual drop off of Naruto this morning, Yoshino will never simply hand over the son of the Yondaime to a shinobi she’s never met-- and a shinobi he most certainly is judging by the netting of his shirt covered with a long, red haori not unlike the Yondaime’s Hokage robe and the wraps around the thigh of his bright shinobi pants. Still, he doesn’t wear the hitae-ate of the Leaf and Yoshino has never met him. 

“Naruto can eat dinner here.” Yoshino’s fingers never leave the panelling of the door as she offers a polite smile. “And he can go home when his father or his guards return for him.”

The teenager’s lips pinch together, curving up in a pleasant grin. “I would expect nothing less,” he assures her. “And neither would the Hokage. Which is why he sent me with this.”

Yoshino takes the extended scroll from him carefully, turning over the Hokage’s seal in the last remnants of daylight. She flicks a nail beneath the wax, unfurling the missive with one hand, keeping the other free… just in case. But before she can read a word, the teenager speaks again. 

“My name is--”

“Naru-niisan!” 

The rough cry from behind almost manages to startle her and when she starts to reach down a hand to grab onto the boy’s shoulder to hold him back, Naruto blazes right past her and into the crouching teenager’s arms. Yoshino raises a brow and makes a quick check over her shoulder to see Shikamaru sitting up in a hunch, the last dregs of sleep still in his eyes. 

“Hey, otouto,” the teenager says as he rises to his feet, running a gentle thumb over the whiskers on Chibi Naruto’s cheeks, akin to the matching whiskers on the elder’s face. “Had a good time with Shika?”

“The best! Shika doesn’t like to train like Sasuke does, but we still played outside and threw some rocks and then we watched clouds, but I think that’s boring sometimes so we came inside for a snack and then--”

“Whoa, whoa,” the teen says. “That’s a busy day, kid.”

“Yeah,” Chibi Naruto nods his head. “But I can handle a busy day, niisan. I’m super strong.”

Pride shines in the broad smile from the teenager. “That you are, Naruto.”

The chibi grins back at him before turning to find Yoshino watching them, still in the threshold. “Yoshino-san! This is my big brother! You can call him Naru-niisan just like I do because he’s the best big brother of the whole village, so it’s only fair.”

Yoshino submits to a grin this time, eyes slipping over to  _ Naru-niisan _ . “Is that so?”

“Heh,” Naru-san chuckles, a faint blush misting over his cheeks. “Yep. If it’s fine with Naruto, it’s fine with me. But, uh, Naru-san works just as well.”

“Tachi calls niisan, Naru-sennin!” 

Yoshino watches Naru-san look warily down at his… otouto. “Not exactly, but--”

“Don’t worry, Yoshino-san, niisan is really nice and strong. You’re safe with him around!” Chibi Naruto widens his teeth in more than a smile, turning between Yoshino and Naru-san triumphantly. 

“I’m sure Yoshino-san can take care of herself just fine,” Naru-san says, ruffling the boy’s blond hair before giving his attention to the Nara matriarch. “To- Minato-sama knew having me retrieve Naruto wouldn’t be as easy as popping in on you, so he gave me that.” Yoshino glances down at the scroll in her hands when the teenager gestures to it. “We have a meeting after dinner tonight, so he wanted to have Naruto nearby.”

Yoshino scans his face carefully, calculating. “Uh huh.”

A small grip tugs on her skirt and she looks down to a somewhat bedraggled Shikamaru. “Is it time to eat yet?”

“Not yet,” she says, running her fingers through his hair to push back the strands that escaped their tie. With another read through of the scroll, she returns her attention to the two blond boys waiting uncharacteristically patient at the door. “Fine,” she says curtly before smiling sweetly to Chibi Naruto. “We’ll see you soon, okay, Naruto?”

“Yes, Yoshino-san!” he chirps with a fist thrust into the air. When Naru-san nods to her in a polite goodbye, Naruto’s little fist falls, clutching tightly to the teenager's haori. “Niisan, is dad cooking dinner? He’s a really good cook, mhm, he is. Did you know he can make…”

And then the words fade away along with the images of the two boys as they leave the compound. For whatever reason, Yoshino can’t seem to bring herself to look away until they’ve both completely disappeared into the dusk, only moving back to her cooking when Shikaku appears around a corner and greets her with a smile. 

  
  


Shikaku doesn’t eavesdrop on purpose. Usually. Sometimes. Okay, whatever, sometimes he eavesdrops. But when he’s on his way to the Namikaze residence under the cloak of a genjutsu and overhears Uchiha voices, he can’t help but slow his gait. They’ll likely realize he’s there in a matter of steps anyway. It’s not like his genjutsu is strong enough to hide from an Uchiha anyway, so really, he’s not being deceptive.

“--because your mother is a loyal woman, that’s why.”

Fugaku. 

Then there’s whining. Likely Sasuke, but who knows. Shikaku has heard plenty of whining as the Jonin instructor and would not put it past many adults in the village at this point. 

“But Naruto is annoying!” 

Oh, yeah, definitely Sasuke. 

There’s a pause before the soft voice of Itachi barely reaches Shikaku’s ears as he turns a corner, entering the compound. 

“Kaa-san and Naruto’s okaasan were best friends, otouto. You spending time with Naruto is honoring Kaa-san’s love for her best friend after her death. That’s important, Sasuke.” 

And then whatever would have come next is interrupted by Fugaku and Itachi both turning to Shikaku across the Namikaze lawn. Shikaku lets his genjutsu fall away, despite the fact that the Uchiha’s are surrounding the home with a genjutsu of their own. 

“Nara,” Fugaku says, his eyes quickly turning to stone in that Uchiha way-- prepared to seal away all their secrets and die with them at a moment’s notice. 

It’s a little dramatic for Shikaku’s taste. 

“Uchiha,” he answers with a dip of his chin, knowing full well that the other clan head would never honor Shikaku in such a way. Still, it pays to offer up the little pieces of respect where they might one day turn into favor. 

Neither of them dare speak of the meeting outside the door covered in seals, all varying degrees of bright and faded away. They don’t knock, just slowly let their chakras come out of hiding until Minato opens the door, only when the door does finally open it’s Naruto-sennin grinning at them in a ghost of Kushina’s own. He lets them in and the typically spacious living room is feeling a little tight with all the rest of the attendees having settled in. 

Hiashi Hyuuga is without his brother standing beside the couch pointedly not looking at Chouza Akimichi and Inoichi Yamanaka seated below. Shibi Aburame leans against the wall beside Inoichi while Tsume Inuzuka and Kuromaru sit on the floor together in the corner. The Chibi Naruto has playfully poised himself in the single reclining chair as he emphatically tells Chouza a story across the room. 

Naruto-sennin doesn’t linger with them before leaving to the kitchen, presumably to gather Minato, and Shikaku turns to Chouza and Inoichi who greet him kindly, which, sadly, interrupts Chibi Naruto’s story. Round, cerulean eyes spin on him in an instant, narrowing so sharply it’s like he thinks he can hold Shikaku in place. 

But Shikaku has been exposed to those eyes a little too much to feel all that threatened. He simply raises a brow at the boy which makes him practically snarl in answer, but then he sees Sasuke and all signs of ire are lost. Chibi Naruto pops up from his seat and bursts forward to Sasuke, who braces himself in a childish fighting stance before breaking out in a run. Naruto makes chase and Itachi watches them go before looking up to his father who nods and then Itachi is on their trail, corralling the two toward the staircase to leave the grown ups alone. 

Chouza laughs as they go and Inoichi looks over at Shikaku. “You know what all this fuss is about?”

Shikaku shrugs a shoulder. “I think the tiny Yondaime just favors the little Uchiha.”

Inoichi glares at him and he hides a smirk, even when Chouza’s laugh grows. Shikaku can feel the other clan head’s eyes fall on him as Inoichi scoffs. “Don’t be an ass. You know what I meant.”

“It’s the Hokage’s meeting,” Shikaku answers, as if that will be enough to stow their curiosities. 

Tsume chuckles lightly, Kuromaru’s ear twitching at the sound. “Yeah,  _ secret _ meeting.”

“I will say,” Hiashi starts, garnering all of their attention-- even Fugaku who stiffens beside Shikaku, “that it’s unusual for the Hokage to host a meeting like this in his home.”

Shikaku sighs. “You’ll see,” he tells them, ignoring the frowns suddenly thrown at him. He might as well be surrounded by children. Shikamaru would probably behave and be more productive in one of these meetings than some of the other clan heads, not that Shikaku would ever say that out loud. 

“It’s obviously about--” but Tsume’s words cut off the moment Minato and Naruto-sennin step into the room, walking together shoulder to shoulder with easy, curved smiles. 

Minato draws out his glances shared with every clan head scattered throughout his living room, Naruto-sennin shifting his stance beside him more formally. Then, Minato grins. He grins that stupid grin that all the clan heads  _ loathe _ because it makes their Hokage look so  _ genuine  _ and  _ kind _ . How dare he. Shikaku watches their reactions when Minato speaks. “Thank you all for coming on such short notice and to such an unprecedented venue. I’m afraid that before the night is over, I will be asking more of you, particularly to keep an open mind.” 

There’s visible tension at that. 

Pitching all of this to the clan heads is a risk in itself, however it’s one that Shikaku and Minato agreed will be the best course of action. For Naruto-sennin to truly become the Konoha citizen that he’ll need to be for all the tasks presumably ahead of them, he’ll need to be out in the open to a degree. At least, when it comes to the elders and any probing shinobi or figures of power. The Elemental Nations will likely become involved if these coming events truly end the structure of all the shinobi life and if Naruto-sennin is a spearhead of such a thing then his alliance will need to be named and confirmed, for all their sakes. 

Minato’s reign as the Fourth Hokage has been the first to change the precedent of power among Konoha politics. The ignorant preemptive strike will serve them well now, without the need for elder approval, rather counting their votes along with the present clan heads toward any decision that might aim to usurp the Hokage’s ultimate decision. If Minato can win them over here, then the elders will have virtually no say in what becomes of Naruto-sennin. 

“This,” Minato says, opening his palm toward the teenager beside him, “is--”

The front door opens.

Shikaku whips around, immediately crouched and distantly aware of the other clan heads all jumping to their feet and readying themselves for a fight in the face of someone who could  _ sneak up  _ on a congregation of arguably the greatest shinobi in Konoha. And the person who steps through the threshold manages to not be a threat, but also not disappoint in their entrance. 

Surprisingly, it’s Naruto-sennin who is the first to say, “Orochimaru?”

The serpantine figure gently closes the door behind them, turning sharp, critical eyes on the teenager, completely ignoring the rest of the room. “Ah, I see,” they say with a hum before shifting their attention to Minato. “Yondaime. I apologize for my tardiness, though I see I am not alone in that regard…”

“You invited the Sannin, Orochimaru?” Tsume practically barks, her ninken curled around her back, fur as stiff and at attention as its muscles. 

Minato opens his mouth and Shikaku stares at him. They hadn’t planned to invite the Sannin… not unless Minato made that move without including Shikaku, but such a thing was so beyond the bounds of the trust Shikaku held for Minato that he cast the thought away, turning back to the Sannin as he interrupted Minato’s grasping for words. 

“No, no,” Orochimaru says slowly, his voice somehow sounding like a hiss despite being perfectly enunciated. “The Sannin were summoned by their own. I am simply reporting to my Hokage… and waiting for the others.”

Naruto-sennin steps further into the room toward Orochimaru, a peculiar look on his face that tells Shikaku he should definitely stop the boy from whatever is about to come out of his mouth. Instead, Shikaku resists and the boy raises an awkward hand to point at the Sannin. “You’re a good guy? Now? Like, uh, not evil?” 

Inoichi chokes on the couch and Fugaku shoots the boy a glare followed with a “What?!” 

“What is the meaning of this?!” Hiashi demands over the slowly mounting chaos all the while Orochimaru only smiles at Naruto-sennin, who withdraws from the Sannin with a frown. 

Shikaku glances over at Minato and finds him still struck by the oddity of events. Rubbing his temple, Shikaku sighs, losing count quite early for a meeting that hasn’t really started yet, and steps up to Naruto-sennin in the middle of the room. With a hand on the teenager’s shoulder, he addresses the room. “This is Naruto from the future, though we think it might be an alternate dimension since things are so different here from the world he’s come from.” Fugaku and Hiashi jerk forward with open mouths at the same time and Shikaku raises his other hand to silence them while Orochimaru grins, still in the doorway. “It seems that Orochimaru was evil in his world and that’s the root of his question. To answer it, Naruto-sennin, yes. Orochimaru-sama is a ‘good guy’ and the only Sannin still consistently within the village at its aid. He is a scientist and his experiments are openly shared with the Hokage who quite enjoys spending time in the lab alongside him. Anything else?”

The room seems to pale.

“Good,” Shikaku says. 

But then Naruto-sennin takes another step toward Orochimaru, his eyes suddenly intent. “Wait, you said the Sannin were summoned by their own?”

Orochimaru has not stopped smiling. “I did.”

“That means…”

The temperature between all the gathered shifts once more as Naruto-sennin’s voice falls away, the familiar look of a shinobi much older than Naruto-sennin passing over his face. Grief. It weighs in his shoulders, down his cheeks, curling him into his gut as he pauses, heart bared to them all as they watch. 

But then Orochimaru takes a conspicuous step away from the door and it opens again, almost as if on cue. 

“Well, well! If it isn’t my favorite-- Ehh??” 

Fugaku nobly moves to the other side of the room, apparently preferring the company of a Hyuuga over close quarters with the Sannin who seem to want to march in at their pleasure. He scoffs as he goes. “Some  _ secret  _ meeting.”

“Jiraiya-sensei?” Minato says, unbothered by the prickling clan heads and the quickly diminishing amount of space in his home. 

Shikaku watches Naruto-sennin, though, and the last dregs of his warranted doubts fade away at the sight of the teenager taking a first look at the Toad Sage in all his flamboyant glory. Bickering blooms between the two Sannin, but Shikaku doesn’t listen and neither does Naruto-sennin as his face bends and melts and breaks in the presence of Jiraiya. No, Shikaku can no longer hold any doubts that Naruto-sennin is telling anything less than the truth. 

He must have really loved his Jiraiya. 

“Can we  _ please  _ get back to the meeting?” Tsume growls, settling herself back onto the floor in her corner. “I don’t want to be here all night if it can be helped.”

“Ooh, a meeting,” Jiraiya says, sauntering into the room, seemingly oblivious to the shattered teenager at its center who is trying to pull himself together as the Toad Sage rounds his way to the Hokage. He loops an arm over Minato’s shoulders and grins. “Looks like I got here just in time, then huh?” 

Rationally, the addition of the Sannin trio’s approval would also benefit them in their endeavor to assimilate Naruto-sennin into their world, but their presence is always somewhat… distracting. Shikaku prefers to avoid them unless their battle prowess is required, though they, Jiraiya especially, seem aware of his aversion and enjoy rubbing it in. 

“Ah, yes.” Minato doesn’t flinch away from Jiraiya’s touch, but doesn’t return the sentiment making for a comical looking scene at the head of their meeting. Everyone settles themselves and Naruto-sennin carefully moves to Shikaku’s side, much to his surprise.  _ Interesting _ . Minato opens his hands as he moves to speak. “Alright then. I’ve brought you all here--”

“Excuse me, Yondaime,” Orochimaru purrs as a few of the clan heads groan around the room. “But should we wait for Tsunade? Just trying to be efficient.”

“Tsunade’s coming?!” Tsume gasps and even Chouza’s eyes widen at that. 

Jiraiya shakes his head slow, a smile growing across his face. “Ahh, Tsuna-hime.”

“She’s really coming?” Minato asks his old teacher with a raised brow. 

“Mhm,” Jiraiya hums, rescinding his arm to cross them both over his chest a step away from the Yondaime. “Wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“She’s the one who summoned us,” Orochimaru confirms. 

“How… peculiar,” Inoichi says and Chouze shifts uncomfortably in his seat beside him. 

“I don’t think she knew anything about a meeting though,” Jiraiya continues. “She just wanted all the Sannin to report to the Hokage immediately. Oro waited for me to get into town before coming over.”

Fugaku rubs his temple as Hiashi looks between the two Sannin with poorly hidden disgust. 

Shikaku can’t help himself. “So you came together but Orochimaru-sama entered first?”

“Jiraiya wanted his own entrance,” Orochimaru explains, a light smile on their too-perfect lips. 

“Of course he did,” Shikaku laments under his breath. Naruto-sennin is motionless next to him, his eyes firmly anywhere but in Jiraiya’s direction and Shikaku is starting to feel pained at taking notice. But then the teen’s head perks up and his face is instantly morphed from grief to hope as he nails his sights to the door. 

“They’re coming,” the boy says, drawing everyone’s attention for the first time in too long considering this entire meeting is about him. 

“They?” Chouza repeats, but he doesn’t receive an answer. 

Orochimaru’s grin widens and Jiraiya moves to the door. Shikaku opens his senses and realizes there are two chakras fast approaching the house, both the size of a Sannin and completely unrepentant and unworried of hiding such power. Just as they’re closing in, Orochimaru grabs the doorknob before Jiraiya can reach it, pulling it open right as a sandaled foot flies forward, landing smack in the middle of Jiraiya’s face. 

“And  _ that _ is for the spa eight months ago!” Tsunade shouts, her voice breaking through the room like thunder. Jiraiya falls back, hands flying to his face to cover his already swelling nose and Shikaku starts to wonder which of the clan heads will bail on this clusterfuck of a meeting first. He decides it depends on whether Fugaku or Hiashi is the bigger suck up today, though Tsume could lose her patience despite her obvious, though hidden, amusement at the Sannin antics. 

Shikaku spares a glance at Minato to commiserate over their fallen meeting, but finds him watching his teenage son with a curious expression. Naruto-sennin is moving, picking up speed in his walk toward the door until he’s launching himself over Jiraiya’s prone form and into a pink blur beside Tsunade. The two bodies crash together and Tsunade gives them some space, dragging Jiraiya by his long mop of white hair further into the room and toward the only space really left for all the guests. Orochimaru follows her, the trio taking up a post near the entrance to the kitchen as Tsunade berates Jiraiya and Jiraiya feebly defends himself. 

Naruto-sennin is clinging to the girl in his arms, her face tucked into the neck of his hug and hidden by striking pink hair. Eventually the room quiets, and the teenagers tear themselves apart, though Shikaku thinks it's less out of desire and more out of practicality as the girl reaches back to shut the door behind them. Naruto-sennin’s hands are on her face, brushing away her tears and tucking her hair behind her ears over and over in what can’t be any less than shock. Shikaku watches him suck in a breath that fully expands his chest, whisper something to the girl that makes her nod, and then turn and face them all. 

Shikaku does not miss the single purple diamond on the girl’s forehead and suddenly the reasons for the Sannin’s summons start to fall into place.

Naruto-sennin scans each of their faces, his own transformed into one that would rival his father even at his most authoritative moments. 

“We can start the meeting now.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SAKURA IS HERE. 
> 
> ...and some narusasu crumbs.

Sakura is here. 

_ Sakura is here _ .

This changes everything, Naruto thinks. Her hand is tightly wrapped in his at his side, a silent reassurance of all the things he can’t ask her about right now and the pure, unadulterated  _ hope _ that stirs in his chest is nearly too much to bear. After all they’ve been through, after all the defeat, the preparation, all his despair at arriving alone-- Sakura is alive. Sakura is here.

If Sakura made it then…

But he can’t let himself think about that now. Not when he’s facing his father and the clan heads and the Sannin, all of another world that already feels so much more peaceful than his own. But the seeds of malcontent are already alive here just the same as they once were in the Konoha he knew as a child, the evil still lurking in the shadows. No matter the differences, they will save this world too-- no matter the costs. 

He looks to his father who nods toward Sakura and Naruto understands.

“My name,” he addresses the room, “is Naruto Uzumaki and this is Sakura Haruno, my teammate.” He can feel the shock from the Sannin and already muttering between clan heads picks up, but he continues. “We have come to your Konoha from another time to seek refuge and to defend the village we were born into until our dying breaths.” 

A few mouths open, but Minato steps forward with raised hands. “Hold your questions for now,” he commands them and, surprisingly, they listen. Minato turns to him. “Naruto, can you offer them proof the way you have for myself and the others?”

He meets his father’s eyes, the film of joy at seeing him alive sliding into his view unbidden, and he nods, preparing himself for the speech to come. 

“I knew your children in my world,” he tells them. “I’ve started to think of my time as a completely different world after all the things I’ve seen between them that have changed… but so far all of the people are the same. Kiba,” he looks at Tsume, “is an ass and a beloved friend who would easily give his life for his ninken, Akamaru.” Tsume’s eyes widen and for the first time since her arrival, her lips clamp together tight. 

“Shino,” Naruto says, turning to Shibi, “is as quiet as you are, but his will of fire burns steady. He’s changed the perspective on your clan’s insects many times, with myself included, and has held his comrades from death with their power.”

He looks at Chouza and can’t help the bubble of a laugh that overflows from his chest. “Chouji… Chouji was almost too kind to be a shinobi,” he says, glancing back at Sakura who smiles with a memory of her own. “Finally, his desire to protect and honor Shikamaru and Ino seemed to outweigh his gentleness. He was an impenetrable force and with Ino always pushing them forward. The InoShikaCho of my time was extraordinary.” 

Sakura squeezes Naruto’s hand and he looks back at her again, a question in her eyes and he nods, knowing. She turns her eyes on Inoichi steadily, well aware of all the eyes in the room staring down her Byakugou Seal. “Ino was my best friend. You were an uncle to me and for her life, I am forever grateful to you. She made sure I was never alone… back when we were small children at the academy and down to her last moments. You would have been so proud.”

Naruto takes a breath to center himself, the weight of their confessions bearing down on his frail heart buried so deep within his chest. This wound has been cracked open, bleeding ruthlessly since his arrival and no matter the glimpses of joy scattered between, it  _ hurts _ . Seeing their faces, speaking these names… it hurts. 

But he makes himself look over at the Hyuuga Head, forcibly avoiding Fugaku’s critical gaze, and presses on. “Hinata saved my life more than once. She’s timid and often wrongfully overlooked because of it, but she is the one that stands when everyone else has let themselves feel crippled. She worshipped Neji… and Neji deserved his glory for his giftedness. The two of us rarely got along because of it, actually, but I think our differences pushed us forward and in the end he gave his life for mine the same way his father did for you. I will carry his sacrifice with me for the rest of my life.”

His head falls and Sakura is squeezing his fingers again, this time gently in reassurance and he drags his eyes up to his father’s. They’re dry and aching, desperate to rid himself of everything swelling and bursting in his chest, but Naruto stopped crying— back when Hinata died. Still, this world dares him to, even when the smallest drops touch down on his cheeks, he fights them, wars with them the same way he warred for the safety of his precious people. 

He can’t lose. 

Even if Pervy Sage is behind him, watching him, listening to him. 

He can’t. 

Minato watches him, a paternal concern stricken across his brow, but he does not interrupt. 

“Sasuke…” Naruto almost chokes. He almost can’t do it. But he has to. He has to get through this. They have to believe him. “Sasuke is our third teammate. We were on the run for the last month of our lives in our world. Our enemy had annihilated shinobi kind, decimated nations, more than villages. The only kin of you gathered here that we cannot confirm dead are Shikamaru and Kakashi-sensei, our Jonin instructor. We were separated months before, though we never found either of them in our searches and eventually ran out of options. They were both aware of our plan to attempt a time jump. They supported us and would have told us to go… even though I will carry the shame of leaving them behind on my shoulders as well.”

Sakura steps forward, addressing the room with the same spirit instilled in her by the Godaime of their world and Naruto is grateful for her interception. “I will help Naruto answer all of your questions. Shishou already has an understanding of how we got here and what our mission is. I will gladly attempt to clarify everything for all of you as well.”

The room turns to the Yondaime who is watching the bowed head of his son before he faces the small crowd snugly tucked into his living room. “First, I think it’s understandable we ask how, exactly, you managed time travel.”

Naruto tenses. It’s the most obvious first question, but he’s been blissfully hoping to avoid it. 

Sakura doesn’t hesitate. “The rinnegan.”

“Excuse me?” Fugaku says, Hiashi jerking ramrod straight beside him. “And how on earth would an Uzumaki and a no-name shinobi get their hands on the rinnegan?”

Naruto snaps his eyes to Fugaku. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

Fugaku looks ready to retort but Sakura cuts him off. “Sasuke has one rinnegan eye and one sharingan. The two of us funneled our chakra to him while he attempted to throw us back as far as he could, though we never experimented with time travel before this. Sasuke has good control over space travel with his doujutsu, so we had faith in him… even if we believed that, in the end, only Naruto would be able to make the jump.”

“Sasuke?” Tsume says from the floor. “As in the four year old upstairs playing with Naruto and running the Anbu Itachi ragged?” 

Naruto nods. “Yes, that’s him.”

“He surpasses Itachi then,” Fugaku says, mostly to himself, and Naruto manages to think fast enough to hold Sakura back and speak for her. 

“I think it’s best if you don’t talk to either of us about your sons for a while.”

Fugaku frowns something furious, but Minato silences him with a raised hand, Shikaku speaking up in his place. “Does that mean Sasuke is here in our world as well?”

“I thought it didn’t work when I first landed. We were so tired. They said their goodbyes to me and everything so I- I thought they sent me alone. I couldn’t sense either of them anywhere,” Naruto admits to them, casting away the memories with a weak shake of his head. “I didn’t know Sakura was here until she came running up to the house with baa-chan.”

“What did you just call me?!”

“Maa, maa,” Naruto waves Tsunade’s prickling off, pleased with the distraction. “It means Sasuke could be here, but there’s no way to know unless we sense him or he senses us and comes to find us.”

Sakura dips her chin. “If I had to guess, he’s most likely already here somewhere taking care of all the things he thinks it’d be a pain to drag Naruto along for before coming to find us.”

“Hey!” he protests, even as the fluttering in his chest lights his heart on precious fire. 

“Why would he find… Naruto-sennin a pain?” Hiashi asks, and Naruto is  _ very  _ aware of Fugaku’s eyes on him.

“Sasuke and I have slightly alternative methods for achieving peace… and different standards of diplomacy…” Naruto says slowly and he practically watches alarm bells pop off above the clan heads’ faces. 

“He’s a threat?” Minato asks quietly, wary of Fugaku’s tension, but still full of the firm airs of the Hokage.

Sakura laughs easily, breaking the tension building throughout the room. “As long as Naruto is around, Sasuke won’t step a hair out of line.”

“You’re that much more powerful than him?” Tsume asks, head peeking up beside Kuromaru in their corner. 

“Ah,” Naruto scratches an imaginary itch on the back of his neck, warring with the blush threatening his cheeks. “I mean… not exactly.”

Sakura hides a giggle behind her hand, cutting a sideways glance at Naruto and he reels back to pounce on her but he’s too late. “More like Sasuke doesn’t want to sleep on the couch.”

“ _ Sakura! _ ”

“What?! It’s true!”

There are a few idle nods and blank stares before Inoichi straightens on the couch. “I apologize, Yondaime, but why has he not been taken to Intelligence?”

Minato’s shoulders tense as he regards the Yamanaka clan head. “Because I believe him. And if I believe him, then that means he is my son. Would you hand off Ino to Intelligence so easily?” 

Naruto feels the weight of his words like a balm over the sting of his open wounds, but he presses that awareness aside. 

Shikaku gestures to him, breaking the stare down between the two blond men. “Naruto has offered to turn himself over to T&I should we require it necessary, though the final choice belongs to the Hokage,” he says, pulling the room’s attention to him. “What’s important is that he has offered his knowledge and skill to Konoha, which the Hokage intends to accept. I assume you request the same shelter, Haruno-san?”

Sakura nods. “Yes. I stay with Naruto.”

“Who’s to say this isn’t a trick?” Hiashi boldly states, inching away from Fugaku who is still steaming beside him. “A ploy to gain access to our knowledge and resources? He could be a spy or an assassin.”

Naruto can’t help the laugh that chokes in his throat. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just… if that were the case I’m already in the living room of the Yondaime and surrounded by the most influential people in the village. What would be stopping me?”

“Uh, us?” Tsume balks. “It would be foolish to come at us all together when you could buy your time. No one in the Elemental Nations could stand against the group in this room.”

Minato clears his throat and Naruto can feel the dread and anticipation filling the air. “Actually,” his father says, “if Haruno-san is anywhere near Naruto’s level then together they could absolutely clear this room of life. Naruto alone could flatten the village if he pleased.”

“You’re joking,” Fugaku deadpans and Naruto bites his cheek to keep from laughing. 

Minato tilts his head and Fugaku shuts his mouth, but it’s too late. The Yondaime looks back over his shoulder and calls out toward the stairs. “Itachi!”

Itachi appears in a shunshin instant, head already bowed. “Yes, Hokage-sama.”

“Report your impression of Naruto-sennin’s battle prowess.”

A few brows raise at Naruto’s title, but Itachi straightens and delivers his thoughts. “Naruto-sennin can perform, so far, unmatched taijutsu and an unknown ninjutsu the size of my fingertip that cleared half the Kumo regiment. My general perspective is that he holds back to keep from harming allies.”

Minato smiles down at him, ignoring the reactions around them. “And why did you start calling him Naruto-sennin?”

“Because Bee-sama of Kumo referred to him as the Son of the Sage. Naruto-sennin speaks to the bijuu and they obey him, though what that means in terms of offensive and defensive capabilities is currently unknown,” Itachi says dutifully, even in his soft, ten year old voice. 

“If you were to come across Naruto-sennin as an enemy while commanding a squad, how would you lead your team?” Minato asks. 

“Flee on sight, sir,” Itachi answers without missing a beat. “And if we were too close to home, I would suggest an evacuation.”

“Very good,” Minato says, still smiling as he lays a hand atop Itachi’s head. The boy blushes slightly and peers up at his leader. “How are the boys upstairs?”

Itachi’s eyes widen suddenly and he jerks his face to the Hokage’s. “I should get back to them.”

“Please do,” Minato says, releasing him. Itachi races up the stairs, no longer using a jutsu to move now that the Hokage isn’t summoning him. Minato faces the room. 

“So you can all begin to understand that, should Naruto’s intentions be nefarious, we would be in a difficult situation. However, I have witnessed his relationship with the bijuu personally and while I will not hide my satisfaction in offering my son a home, I also understand the asset of having someone whom the bijuu respect to the point of refusing conflict with inside our borders as an ally. Our battle with Kumo ended when the Kumo jinchuriki came into contact with Naruto, his bijuu refusing to fight the ‘Son of the Sage’. Bee packed up his troops and turned for home— going so far as to tell the Raikage that he will ally himself with Naruto, even if Kumo does not.”

There’s one muffled gasp and even Shibi starts to shift on his feet restlessly. 

Chouza is the one who breaks the long, lingering silence with a full bellied laugh. “So it seems we have little choice then? What are your plans with this older Naruto and his friend?”

Minato’s smile for Chouza is broad and Naruto thinks of Chouji, sees him in his father’s eyes. “They are not missing nin, not in any bingo books. They are wandering shinobi in search of a place to call home and I intend to give it to them. I offer them citizenship and a place in the shinobi ranks where they can best offer support for the possibilities of the evil of their time correlating with our own. And even if none of their history repeats itself, their strength will be a pride for Konoha amidst all the Elemental Nations.”

“It could cause resentment,” Inoichi says, raising his chin, “if they feel there’s a favoritism of the Hokage’s long lost son.”

“Haruno-san negates such a thing,” Shikaku is quick to counter. 

Minato nods at his advisor. “And I’m sure they’ll show their worth sooner rather than later. Now, does anyone oppose my decision?”

“Hokage-sama.” Heads turn to Fugaku. “The Uchiha will support you, however I have a request along with such a thing.”

“By all means,” Minato says with a lifted brow. 

Fugaku’s eyes flit to Naruto and back. “I would like for there to be a purposeful search for Sasuke.”

Naruto clenches his jaw, forcing himself to believe that his intentions are paternal and not born of the simple desire for Sasuke’s rinnegan. He doesn’t know much of Sasuke’s father, not enough to make a clear judgement, as Sasuke never spoke of him, but still Naruto knows he staged a coup once upon a time. It’s justifiable to be wary. 

So he answers for his father, “Of course.”

Minato glances toward him, but nods all the same and turns to the Sannin who have remained silent, absorbing the scene as it’s been laid out before them. “Anything you wish to add?” 

Jiraiya frowns in a nonplussed way, shaking his head while Orochimaru remains impassive. Tsunade lifts her chin. “Sakura appeared before me out of nothingness and forced her way into my life with the grace only I could have beaten into her. I believe she is my student on my word, and my seal she wears. Anyone with an argument to that effect can speak with me directly.”

The corners of Minato’s lips curve into a smile. “Good. Then it’s settled. I will instate their ranks tomorrow and begin the process of debriefing them both on possible threats to Konoha. Inoichi,” he says, turning to face the man, “you will be involved and I will send word when I need you. Needless to say, this should be handled with the utmost privacy. We will all reconvene in one week in the conference room of the tower to go over our findings and prepare as a village for the next steps. Do we all agree?”

Naruto watches each clan head and Sannin give the Yondaime a verbal consent to the plan before they’re dismissed, the former filtering out with more haste than he really feels necessary. But the Sannin linger, the trio still firmly planted in the space between the living room and kitchen, eyes drifting over Sakura and him, their attention a tangible force hefty on his shoulders. 

Sharing a room with Jiraiya is a burden and a pleasure Naruto has never intended, never planned for. It’s suffocating. 

Fugaku’s presence is similarly stifling, but the freshly bloomed hope that Sasuke is actually  _ here _ with him somewhere in this world overshadows Naruto’s distaste for the man somewhat. This Fugaku has no claim on Sasuke and no means of possibly overpowering him either. The only one who can stand against Sasuke is Naruto, a point they’ve proven to each other time and time again.

And if there’s one thing he can get on board with, it’s finding Sasuke.

Naruto… needs to see him again. 

Reach out and touch him. 

Know that he’s  _ alive _ . 

Shikaku is the last to leave, pausing at the door to glance back at the Hokage, only fully departing after Minato nods to the advisor’s unspoken question. 

Sakura stands stiff beside him and Naruto is grateful, beyond grateful, that she’s here. She’s always seemed to handle this sort of pressure with more grace than Naruto’s ever had. Whatever grace he possesses has always been provided by luck and happenstance. She surveys the room, sharing a glance with her shishou before waiting for Minato to proceed. 

“Fugaku.”

The broad, stern Uchiha is looking toward the stairs, eyes framed with an uncharacteristic gentleness that makes something twist in Naruto’s gut. But he looks back at the Hokage. “Hokage-sama,” he pauses, his gaze pulling over to Naruto for a glance before turning back to the stairs. “Finding Sasuke is important to the Uchiha… Important to me. Personally. I know Mikoto will agree.”

“I assure you,” Minato says, adjusting to face the majority and Fugaku naturally follows into their circle. “We will do our best. I know Naruto and Sakura will be eager to find their teammate.”

Fugaku searches them, eyes scanning over him and Sakura where they stand between the Uchiha lord and the door. Then he nods. “I will be available to you on this matter at a moment’s notice.”

“Thank you,” Minato answers with a dip of his chin as Fugaku calls out to Itachi. The boy flows down the stairs silently, steps carefully void of all sound and a four year old Sasuke asleep on his back. Fugaku reaches out to them and Naruto doesn’t miss the widening of Itachi’s eyes as his father sets his hand around Sasuke’s back and onto his shoulder, leading the two boys out the door in a paternal gesture. 

And despite the space given with the clan heads’ exits, Naruto feels more claustrophobic than ever. 

“Well.” Minato turns to the Sannin, his formal airs loosening as his voice gentles. He tilts his head, a bemused smile pulling at his lips. Naruto watches him, refraining from acknowledging the other three. “I never thought I’d see all three of you back in the village, let alone in the same room.”

“Oh, Minato, you wound me.” Jiraiya tosses up a hand to his forehead and Orochimaru watches him humorlessly. 

Tsunade rolls her eyes and physically pushes him away from her. “Oh, fuck off, the both of you.”

“ _ Tsun-tsun _ ,” Jiraiya purrs, the sound rumbling through his chest and Naruto almost lets out a groan from the memories alone. “You sound like you’re not happy to see me? We should be making the best of this reunion!” 

“I will stab you with my scalpel.”

Minato clears his throat, his smile broadened and noticeably forced. “Does this mean you two will be staying for a while?”

Naruto finally lets his eyes meet the faces of the Sannin, Orochimaru already watching him and likely taking account of the way he’s avoided them so far, but his attention instantly drifts over to the only of the three that seems affected by time. Pervy Sage is younger, though still obviously a senior to himself and his father, built with the same broad chest, and just as tall as Naruto remembers. There’s a twisting in his throat and he swallows it back down. 

“Sakura and I will be staying with Shizune on the Senju estate,” Tsunade says with a quick look at Sakura as she crosses her arms. “I want to be there for her debriefing then, apparently, we have plans to take over your hospital, permissions granted.”

Naruto catches Sakura’s triumphant smirk out of the corner of his eye. 

Minato agrees with a nod and Jiraiya sidles up beside Tsunade. “Room for one more?”

“ _ NO _ .”

Clamping his mouth shut, Naruto realizes too late that he, Sakura, Minato, and Tsunade all answered Jiraiya’s question in a group shout. He silently prays him speaking up won’t come into suspicion. 

Orochimaru actually  _ snickers _ behind their hand. “My, my, Jiraiya. What a reputation you must have to span dimensions.”

Jiraiya frowns. “Well, fine. Just so happens I have a safehouse tucked away in the village for emergencies that I’m sure needs some tender love and care.”

There’s a moment where Minato seems to hesitate before speaking and Naruto stiffens, remembering how close Jiraiya and his father once were-- sensei and student. Naruto knows what he would be saying next and he braces himself for Minato’s invitation to stay with them. 

But it doesn’t come. 

“Good,” the Hokage says instead. “We all have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Everyone get some rest. Tsunade, I’ll see you for the debriefing first thing. Jiraiya, Orochimaru, I will summon you both to discuss possible vantages over what we learn and I’ll invite you all to the council meeting next week.”

And it’s as much of a dismissal as one can give the Sannin. They leave quietly, a weight to their silence that creeps up Naruto’s spine in an all too familiar feeling-- he’s missing something. Tsunade pauses as she passes Sakura to confirm she knows the way home before pulling the door shut behind her and leaving Naruto and Sakura alone with his father.


	6. Chapter 6

Sakura didn’t have time to really take in Minato Namikaze in her timeline. They met briefly, his reanimation a plaguing shadow in his eyes, and they fought. Eventually, all the fighting blurs together into years of warped memories stowing themselves in whatever crumpled misshapen mess they can within the narrow space left behind by the high tides and breaking winds of grief that account for what’s left of her mind. 

Still, seeing Naruto’s father in the flesh for the first time is… startling. 

His image is purified by life— blood pumping through his veins bringing soft color to his cheeks. Her own father’s face is sealed away somewhere too deep inside her to retrieve, the cost of which is too high. But amidst the chaos that these last few days have been, Minato and Naruto’s presence are both warm beacons that satiate some gnawing thing in her chest she hasn’t seemed to rid herself of in months. Months of running. 

They look almost like twins and it’s soothing.

Minato is shifting on his feet, a nervous gesture strikingly contrasting to his smooth, steel presence during the meeting and he’s glancing back and forth between her and Naruto with words dangling on the tip of his tongue, hidden behind tightly pressed lips. 

Naruto, meanwhile, is lost. 

Sakura understands. 

Crash landing onto a cards table was not her most glorious moment, but coming face to face with Shishou on said table after mere seconds of acclimating to time-space travel surely managed to top it. Her yin seal was the only reason the drunken woman decided to bother listening to her and then their spar in the middle of the road out front had finally settled her into giving Sakura’s story a true chance, only for Tsunade to suddenly decide she believed Sakura with every fiber of her being, even while Shizune held out for another day in their travels. 

Sighing, she raises a hand to Naruto’s shoulder, severing his train of thought she knows is on his own shishou, even before he actually turns to regard her with kind, eternal eyes. “Sakura.”

“How about we share stories before bed, yeah?” she tells him, letting her touch fall down his arm and away before turning to Minato. “You’re welcome to join us, Yondaime-sama, though I hope you have a bottle of sake stashed around this place.”

One corner of her mouth curves in a smile as he perks up and bolts for the kitchen, sounds of opening hinges and muted clangs of pots and pans echoing behind him. She watches Naruto watch his father through the wall separating them. 

_ Are you okay? _

She wants to ask, but she doesn’t. She knows the answer and it will do them little good to bring it up now. When the telltale clink of glass pitches through the room, she touches a hand to Naruto’s back and steers them toward the table nestled in the kitchen. Minato brings a virtually untouched bottle of sake that would have been worth cherishing in her time, but is more or less only slightly above average here, along with three small sake cups. 

They drink. After Minato takes his first and only refills hers and Naruto’s cups, she taps his empty one with a nail until the Yondaime refills himself a second as well. Naruto is quiet beside her, but not so far into his shell that he’s avoiding her or Minato with his eyes and she’s grateful. He needs to be present for this conversation. 

“I have a theory,” she starts, licking the remains of her second cup off her lips after throwing it back and waiting for them to do the same. “About where Sasuke might be.”

Both men turn to her sharply and she raises her empty glass, teetering it in a little dance between two fingers. Minato’s jaw clenches. “Are you trying to get us drunk, Sakura-san?”

“Just Sakura,” she corrects as she takes the same bottle from him and refreshes all their cups. 

Naruto leans back in his chair, tucking his hands behind his head and lacing his fingers. “Maa, this is how Sakura works. Her and baa-chan do all their best thinking while splitting a bottle of sake.”

“We have a meeting in the morning,” Minato reminds the table, but Sakura is already sipping on her next cup as if the sharp alcohol were a fine wine. 

“We’ll be fine,” Naruto says, swallowing his third cup in a gulp. He’s always refused to like the taste, but Sakura knows if he would face it more often he would come to love it like she does; It strips away anything else on your mind but whatever you need to focus on, the burn scraping at the small thoughts and blurring all the attachments until you can center yourself on your purpose. 

At least that’s what she and Shishou decided once upon a time. 

“If your hangover is too bad, Hokage-sama, I can heal you in the morning,” she gives him as she holds up the sake bottle, wordlessly telling him to take his drink so she can refill them all again. He does so hesitantly, and Sakura slows their pace on the fourth round, looking between the two. “Naruto, tell me how you landed.”

Her friend raises his chin, the angles of his face having lost their boyish nature in the last few years. “I landed in battle. A Konoha force against Kumo on the grounds of Kumo having stolen the Naruto of this time. Bee and Gyuuki were there and we talked it through, disbanded the fighting, recovered the chibi me, and came back here.”

“Was your father in the battle?”

This raised the brows of both men, as she hoped it would. 

“I was,” Minato says, his genius showing in the light behind his eyes. “And you landed near Tsunade-hime then? Your shishou?”

“Yes,” she confirms with a nod, taking an extra second to watch Naruto’s reaction. He’s never been the brightest person, but his years spent tangled in wartorn battle with Shikamaru by his side, not to mention herself, Sasuke, and Kakashi-sensei, have developed him well. When he shows signs of registering her intent, she continues. “If we all landed near some sort of anchor, then we have a clue as to where Sasuke might be.”

“But wouldn’t Sasuke have appeared nearby already?” Minato asks, leaning an elbow on the table and taking a drink after Sakura glances meaningfully at his cup. “His family is here, though Itachi was with us in battle.”

“I would have sensed him if he’d fallen near us in the battle.” Naruto pulls back his sake and reaches for the bottle from Sakura to pour himself another. “Landing near his parents or his clan is doubtful, if the key is an attachment to someone or something. Orochimaru is in the village here, but I haven’t sensed him at all since I’ve been in range.”

“He could be concealing his chakra,” Sakura puts in, already knowing his counter. 

Naruto shakes his head. “He couldn’t hide from me. Never has.”

“Ah, er,” Minato stumbles over his words, covering his falter with his cup. Is that his fifth? Sixth? Sakura has stopped paying attention, but judging by the flush to the man’s cheeks, he’s not quite used to the sensation. “Is Sasuke-kun your… boyfriend?”

Sakura wants to laugh. She really tries not to… but she can’t help herself. Her boys’ little love story is the most hilarious thing to have ever happened to her and the only point of comedic relief any of them had over the last few years of fighting. 

Naruto elbows her, probably harder than he should have, but she continues to laugh, brushing him off with a wave of her hand and takes a drink to settle herself. “Don’t say that in front of Sasuke,” she tells Minato as Naruto blushes and shoots back another cup. They’re halfway through the brand new bottle now. “He won’t take kindly to you if you tease him and if you plan on being around your son often, you’ll be seeing a lot of Sasuke too.”

“Oh,” Minato says, fully blushing now. Sakura refills his glass for him and slides it across the table. He takes it mechanically. “Will he be staying with us too?”

Sakura wants to point out that this is  _ his  _ house and that he’s the fucking Hokage, but she doesn’t. Instead, she interrupts Naruto’s blush that not-so-subtly matches his father’s. “We can worry about that after we actually find him.” They both seem to shake themselves out of their stupors, turning two sets of ocean eyes on her and nodding. “Alright. So, if we reappeared near people of great significance to us then I think we really only have two options for Sasuke.”

Naruto’s attention drifts up and away, his hand idly twisting his half-empty glass in circles as he thinks. 

Minato tilts his head. “And those are?”

“Itachi and Naruto.”

Three cups slam down on the table and this time it’s Naruto who refills them before running a hand down his face and slouching in his chair. “I know where he is.”

“You sense him?” Minato asks, his eyes starting to shine a little more than they should, turning pink around the edges. 

“No.” Naruto swallows his sake in two bobs of his Adam’s apple, glaring at the nearly empty bottle at the center of the table. “He couldn’t have landed with Itachi. I would have sensed him, especially in the middle of a battle, and even with my presence, he never would have left behind an opportunity to fight like that. Not… with me.”

“I think it’s possible,” Sakura tells them, ignoring Naruto’s frown. She leans over the table to nudge Minato’s drink to him despite the way his shoulders are starting to sway. “If he saw who all from our past was there and that you had it all handled, he could have waited on the sidelines or, more likely, chosen a target to squash before you got ahold of him.”

“A target?” Minato asks, splaying his hand wide on the table and Sakura chuckles a little at his sloppy dramatics. “You think he’s trying to kill people?”

“Oh, I know he’s trying to kill people,” Sakura confirms offhandedly. “Wherever he is, he’s created a mission for himself. That’s for sure.”

Minato’s eyes dart between them for long, quiet seconds before he chugs back his glass and clumsily pours himself another before leveling Naruto with the most paternal gaze Sakura has ever seen. “You’re dating a  _ murderer _ ?!”

Naruto immediately spits out his sake, covering the table in what will be a sticky mess tomorrow and Sakura howls with laughter, scooting her chair back from the mess. Naruto wipes his mouth with the back of his wrist, his tattered toad sage haori sliding up his arm as it bends. “He’s just a shinobi! We kill if we have to. Sasuke just… tends to go after the big guns a little more often than not.”

“Try always,” Sakura smarts, earning her Naruto’s finger jabbed out between her eyes. 

“ _ You _ ... shut up!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sakura sighs, amusement still curling the corners of her lips. “So where is it you think he is then?”

“He’s killing Danzo.”

For how much Minato is currently staggering in his seat, he snaps to attention at that. “He’s  _ what _ ?!”

“Don’t worry,” Sakura says to the drunken Hokage in her best bedside manner voice. “Sasuke is smart. He’ll find a way to do it so that Danzo’s treason is proven and Sasuke’s kill is justified.”

Minato seems displeased, judging by his childish, alcohol fueled pout. Naruto picks up on his father’s missing information before she can though. 

“I think Danzo is the one who took Naruto,” he says, referring to the chibi version of himself easier than Sakura had expected. “Likely hid him in Root headquarters until you had safely placed the blame elsewhere, then made his escape. He probably has seals hiding his workings underground, which would be why, I’m guessing, you don’t know Root is still functioning and why we can’t sense Sasuke.” 

“Impossible,” Minato whispers, slightly more sober. “I disbanded—”

“We know,” Naruto cuts him off, starting to put his elbows down on the table until he sees his sake spit is still scattered everywhere. He drops his hands to his lap. “But Danzo won’t let go of his power so easily. He wants your hat and he’ll do anything to get it. Who do you think managed to make the Itachi of our time murder his entire clan?”

Now Minato is truly sober, cheeks pale and eyes slipping into a familiar shinobi’s rage. “We must bring him to justice. He’s gone against my orders by keeping Root established. We find proof and we charge him with treason and—”

Sakura waves his words away, reaching for the bottle of sake where it sits almost empty between them all. “Sasuke will handle it.”

Minato’s brows crease. “You expect me to leave all this to the Sasuke Uchiha from the future?”

Naruto smiles— one of his big, dopey smiles that always reminds Sakura they’re all going to be okay no matter the outcome. “I trust Sasuke. He’ll take care of it and involve us when he needs to.”

“And what if you’re wrong? What if Sasuke is elsewhere?”  _ Or not here at all,  _ Minato doesn’t say, but Sakura hears him all the same even though Naruto might not. He’s always been a little too love blind when it comes to Sasuke and, sadly, she remembers the feeling. 

She drinks the last of the sake straight from the bottle. “No matter where Sasuke is, he will be protecting the Leaf and he will come to us when he’s finished. This is just our best theory.”

Minato seems to ponder this and, knowing his history as the most intelligent shinobi to have ever been in Konoha, she assumes he’s scheming. Good. Her team can’t be the only one pulling their weight around here. 

Naruto is lost in thought as well, but judging by the gentle crinkle in the corners of his eyes, he’s lost somewhere with Sasuke. 

Gag. They’re so cute it’s disgusting. 

She claps her hands, startling them both. “Well, we can discuss this further tomorrow. Until then, Hokage-sama, get some rest and drink some water. Naruto please actually sleep. At least four hours, okay?”

They nod vaguely as she stands, leaving the empty bottle of sake and their mess behind as she makes for the door. She stops just shy of reaching for the knob and turns on them, pointing an accusatory finger. “And both of you eat some breakfast!” 

She decidedly punctuates her words with a sharp slam of the door and if Naruto notices that she pointedly didn’t leave time for them to celebrate the simple fact of their reunion, then fine. It’s not like she isn’t glad to see him— more than glad; She’s home again, beside her best friend and together, with or without Sasuke, they can accomplish anything. 

Her steps are phantom echoes of her door slam as she slips off the porch, moving to the midnight streets of Konoha beyond the modest Hokage home. The air is crisp, alight with a presence of life filtering in from the noble trees that surround the village. The Senju estate is across town, buried beneath the shadow of the Hokage monument and should Sakura take to the rooftops, she could be there in a few minutes. 

But she didn’t see the village when she and Shishou had first burst into town, already on the run to find Naruto and his Hokage father. Now she had time… time to breathe in the settled air of a village at peace. They might still be on the cusp of the last war, but the Hidden Leaf is thriving as far as Sakura can see. Even as it sleeps, there is no haste, no crackling anticipation, no shivers of something coming for them. 

Shizune will be asleep, Shishou on her second or third bottle of sake nearing the point when she passes out on the couch or slumped over the table. No matter how much Tsunade-shishou might want to wait up for Sakura, eventually she will succumb to her body’s tireless effort to cleanse the alcohol from her system and let herself sleep out of pride. If she waits too long, it will show Sakura how much she cares. 

Sakura knows Shishou too well for such a game. 

Besides, she’s enjoying her stroll. 

A part of her thinks to be wary, considering her clearance in Konoha is limited at the moment due to her intrusion, but in the end there are few shinobi who will contend with the word of Tsunade Senju. The guards at the gate had been unfamiliar, but the clan heads were strikingly the same, despite their lowered ages. She’s never seen Fugaku before, but he is much like Sakura expected him to be. The others she’d met once upon a time and the reflections of their children were clear in their features. 

The market district looms before her, one cluster of residences behind now. They’re thinner here, combed through with less stalls than she remembers, all tidily packed away for the night. She keeps to the overhang of mismatched buildings, glad even in the shadows that she had been able to change clothes on the journey here. Frivolous civilian clothes aren’t her first choice, but she’s a well trained shinobi that works with what’s available to her. 

Her fingers trail across the marred wood of a single stall as she passes, memories of a time she once stood before it, grinning up at its clerk and bartering for tomatoes. It’s strange, seeing it now, when a decade has passed since and yet… there was likely a chibi version of herself running around the village somewhere. 

She decides then and there that she wants her past self to have no inclusion in their mission here. Naruto and Sasuke might have little choice in the matter regarding their own past selves, but she does, and she wants the little girl to stay pure and unburdened for as long as possible, even if fate will bring her to her boys soon enough. 

Sounds of life start to dance in the periphery of her senses, but her memory comes up short. The block ahead isn’t all that changed from the one she once knew, but it wasn’t one she ever spent time in and as she rounds the corner to find dim yellow lights pouring out over the road, she realizes why. She was barely sixteen when the village crumbled; there was no need for her to visit a bar. 

The curl of a grin lights across her lips, alcohol bleeding through her and her chakra stored away so she can linger in the buzz. 

Shishou might be waiting even longer than she thought. 


	7. Chapter 7

“Why did we bring you?”

Genma smiles, raising his mug of beer across the table and waits for a clink that doesn’t come before throwing back the bitter drink. “Because,” he says after wiping his lips with a sleeve, “I am incredible company.”

Kakashi leans further back into the booth, watching Rin frown at the man beside him while Obito sneaks glances at her between sips of sake. She’s mostly ignored her own drink so far, complaining that she has a shift in the hospital tomorrow and doesn’t want alcohol in her system when the time comes. That hasn’t stopped himself, Obito, and Genma from getting properly sloshed. 

“You’re too young,” Rin states, sure of herself in that way that makes everyone want to believe her words as fact. Kakashi knows better. 

Genma points an accusatory thumb at Kakashi. “I’m only a few months younger than this asshole, so why’s he here then?”

Kakashi slides his eyes over to Genma’s hand but doesn’t make to swat him away. He needs them all to drink faster so he can go off for more and take shots at the bar where he doesn’t have to think so hard about when he can slip his mask down. 

“Bakashi is the whole reason we’re drinking,” Obito says, the nickname careful bait that Kakashi refuses to rise to. “He’s still a little pissed off about today.”

Rin elbows his side and he curls into the blow, rubbing soothing circles over his ribs. She frowns at him. “Don’t talk like you weren’t pretty shaken up yourself.”

Genma shrugs. “I thought he was pretty cool.”

Kakashi has never wanted to stab Genma more. 

“I never saw him,” Rin admits, finally touching her glass and tapping a gentle rhythm against it. “But if someone fell from the sky and started telling me I murdered all their friends in the future I probably wouldn’t like them much.”

Obito drinks the last of his sake. 

“Well, Obito has an excuse then,” Genma relents, throwing his elbows up on the table. There’s still plenty of room in the booth between him and Kakashi and he finds himself grateful for the space more than ever. “I doubt that’s what he said to Kakashi though.”

Genma doesn’t bother lasering his eyes to Kakashi, instead staring at Obito with brazen intent. Kakashi is glad to be left alone, more or less, but it would be nice if they’d change the subject, even if he knows Obito won’t spill for Genma. 

“Actually…” Rin starts, a light blush rising on her cheeks and Kakashi almost holds his breath. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Obito won’t last against Rin. “I’d kind of like to know what he said to Kakashi too.”

And then she  _ looks  _ at him and, fuck him, but he’s always had a weak spot for the female of their Genin team. Obito turns his attention to Kakashi meaningfully and after a few breaths of dread, he shrugs back with a single shoulder. 

“Kakashi was the guy’s captain,” Obito says slowly. Rin’s mouth pops open and she quickly tries to cover the reaction. Kakashi pretends not to notice. “He said that Kakashi taught him how to be a shinobi. Even quoted our saying about ‘shinobi scum’.”

There’s a long stretch of silence and then Genma chuckles. “So you’re telling me if I’d have ever thought to actually  _ listen  _ to Kakashi I might be a god-level shinobi? Damn, that sucks ass.”

“Genma!” Rin shrieks, the sound lost in the scattered voices of the other patrons throughout the small, ninja bar. 

Kakashi is strangely… grateful for his terrible humor. He’s not grateful that Genma knows it and likely dissolved the tension on purpose though. 

“Relax,” Genma drawls out, retrieving a senbon from his pocket after finishing the last of his drink. Something catches his eye behind Kakashi and he falters, but flicks the virtual toothpick across his lips anyway. “I think Kakashi is just bummed he’s gotta share Hokage-sama’s attention.”

Kakashi can’t help but glare at him, even if it means ceding a point in that asshole’s favor. 

Rin noticeably hides behind her drink, sipping down the final drops. 

“And you know what else I think?” Genma’s clearly on a roll and  _ clearly  _ needs to be stopped, but the three of them only wait, all their expressions darkened in anticipation for his inevitably terrible idea. “I think he needs a distraction,” he punctuates the statement by throwing an arm over Kakashi’s shoulders. “I think Kakashi here needs to get laid.”

This time Kakashi throws his arm away, scowling at him from behind his mask. Genma grins at him triumphantly and no matter how mad Kakashi might be… he’s not wrong. 

But Kakashi doesn’t fuck women in the village, not since his first. He waits for missions to send him away, finds the passing girl he’ll never have to see again. It’s a trend he’s been on for the last year or two: a teenager whoring his way through the Fire Nation. He’s not ashamed of it, and not worried about his age. Shinobi men are taken for adults by fifteen without question. But the fact that his teammates have slowly caught on has been… unfortunate. 

His reputation precedes him. 

Oh well. 

“Fuck off,” he says, finally, shifting away from Genma in the booth. 

“Aww, don’t pout,” Genma whines, jutting out his bottom lip, senbon hanging from one side. 

Obito chuckles tentatively, waiting a breath, seemingly for courage, before saying, “Maybe he needs his wingman.”

“Where is Asuma, Kakashi?” Rin asks, thankfully steering this conversation toward something actually sane. 

“I’m glad you asked, Rin!” Genma cheerfully answers and Kakashi slumps in his seat. “Asuma is off doing the very deed Kakashi here is desperately in need of. Weird how that happens, huh?”

“I hate you.”

Genma leans over. “What was that? Sorry, Kakashi, I couldn’t quite hear you, but it  _ sounded  _ like you were pussying out of a simple, ah, infiltration mission?” 

Rin draws up in her seat and smacks Genma, mostly, playfully across the temple. “Cut it out!”

“Aww, Bakashi has to be saved by Rin once again…” Obito singsongs and Kakashi firmly decides to put in for new teammates tomorrow. 

Actually, Rin and Obito aren’t even his teammates anymore. Why the hell is he hanging out with them? 

A hand falls firmly on his shoulder and he turns to Genma, prepared to  _ actually  _ punch him, but he’s watching him seriously and Kakashi’s brow drops. Genma lowers his teasing voice into something only slightly more serious and says, “Really though. If you don’t try, I’m going to. Think of it as my gift to you on a bad day.”

“What are you talking about?” Kakashi asks before he can stop himself. 

Genma’s answer is just the wordless point of a finger and Kakashi follows it, turning in his seat to stare across the bar. 

_ Oh _ . 

She’s… pretty. 

Prettier than Kakashi would admit to any of the others at the table and probably better looking than he’d even try for on his escapades outside the village. Her bright eyes laugh along with her at something the bartender said, two empty glasses on the counter between them. She’s alone and has been here a while, dressed in civilian clothes inside a shinobi bar. 

Interesting. 

Bracing himself for the onslaught waiting for him, Kakashi turns back to the table and asks, “Another round?”

He almost flinches when Rin’s answering grin is just as big and cheesy as Obito and Genma’s. But he doesn’t wait for their smart remarks as he slides out of the large booth and moves straight for the bar. 

The girl is mid-story when he leans over the stool beside her, his presence cutting off whatever it was she was about to say. He lets his eyes drag over her face, noting her smooth skin framed with striking  _ pink  _ hair and the small diamond emblazoned in the skin of her forehead before facing the bartender. 

Civilian, this girl is not. 

But he knows the majority of the shinobi in the village, despite the massive quantity and seeing as she’s most likely around his age, he would definitely know who she was if she were a Leaf ninja. 

Traveling then, most likely. 

Perfect. 

“Another for the table,” he says before glancing at the girl sideways. “And another for her.”

The girl smiles, small at first, teasing and tight lipped, before it spreads across her cheeks. She calls out to the retreating bartender. “And I’ll have a bottle then,” she says, eyes flitting over Kakashi’s face, “in thanks.”

Kakashi quirks a brow. “You don’t need to—”

But she raises a hand to quiet him and, almost like she’s sharing a secret, says, “I know.”

The keep brings her bottle first, popping it open for her, and leaves behind five stacked glasses before moving to finish pouring his order. 

“Thank you then.” Kakashi adjusts, dropping an elbow to the bar as she turns over two glasses and pours them both a sizable amount. 

“Drink with me?” she asks, handing him the small cup of sake, her smile barely dimming into something soft. 

He nods, setting a small, routine genjutsu to keep his mask in her sight, and watches her as they take the shot in sync then he sets the glass back on the counter. “You’re not from here.”

“Is that a question?” she says quickly, humor in her voice. 

He matches it. “Is that an answer?”

“No,” she says plainly. “It’s not.”

Before he realizes it, the corners of his lips rise at her willingness to deny him and he’s glad for the millionth time for his mask. “Traveling then?”

She pours them another drink and he takes note of her sure hand compared to how much the girl has already had, if those empty glasses had both been hers. She hums an affirmative. “Came into town with my shishou this morning.”

“Anyone give you a welcome to Konoha yet?”

Her eyes open wide and for a second he thinks he’s lost her, but she puckers another smile, breaking it broad across her face. “No,” she says. “Not yet.”

“Bakashi!” A shout comes from the booth a ways behind them. “Hurry it up already!” 

Kakashi decides he’s going to stab Genma  _ and  _ Obito before this night is over. In the leg, probably. They’ll both heal, but training will stretch out the scar and—

The girl laughs, eyeing his friends across the room. “I think they miss you.”

“Assholes,” he grumbles. Terrible wingmen. The lot of them. Weren’t they the ones pressuring him to come over here in the first place? He turns back to her and she seems so… content. So sure of herself whether he leaves her here or not. It’s  _ attractive  _ honestly. But he doesn’t forget her asking him to drink with her either. “You’re welcome to come with me.”

Her smile turns one-sided and she ponders his offer for a moment, glancing back at the booth before meeting his eyes. “Alright.”

The bartender sets down a tray of their drinks and the girl stacks her five cups and grabs her bottle of sake by the neck. 

“Kakashi,” he says as he takes the tray, turning for the table. 

She blinks up at him all bright eyes, bright hair, and bright smile. “Sakura.”

Kakashi is wary of the feeling in his chest, quickly blaming it on the alcohol, and when they near his booth he dips his chin to her. “Ignore my friends. They’re terrible company.”

But her grin is still in place. “Don’t they say your friends are a reflection of yourself?”

He chuckles as they close in, all three of those assholes watching their every move. “Exactly.”

“Well hello!” Genma says, propping his senbon up with his teeth as they settle the drinks down on the table, each of them reaching for their own. Sakura slides in beside him and he’s glad to at least shelter her from all that is Genma. “I see Kakashi picked up a stray.”

Rin glares at him harder than she has all night. “Genma, that’s rude. Don’t be such an ass.”

“It’s called  _ charm _ ,” he clarifies and Kakashi kisses his chances of taking this girl home goodbye. 

Weirdly, he’s both disappointed and… relieved. But he can’t seem to figure out why. He watches her laugh Genma off, her contentment carrying over to his group as she unstacks her glasses and pours them each full before distributing them out. 

“Don’t worry about it,” she says easily. “I have a friend who thinks he’s  _ charming  _ too.”

“Competition,” Genma whispers conspiratorially, nudging Kakashi with his arm. Kakashi raises a hand to commandeer his senbon and  _ finally  _ stab him, but Sakura chokes on a laugh. 

“No, no,” she says. “He’s like a brother to me.”

“Sorry about them,” Rin says, straightening in her seat and accepting her shot of sake. “I’m Rin and these two idiots are Genma and Obito.”

“Hey!” Obito protests and Rin turns loving eyes on him, grabbing his cheeks with a single hand and shaking him lightly. He pouts, rubbing at his face when she lets go. 

“Sakura,” she says in return, passing Kakashi his drink with a meaningful glance and they pull them both back. His friends could break the genjutsu over his mask, which is why he sneaks away for most of his drinking around them, but he’s pretty sure they won’t try anything around an unknown woman in a bar. She lets out a refreshing  _ ah  _ as she sets down her glass and pours another, leaving Kakashi wondering over her state as his own is starting to get… fuzzy. 

“Are you from around here, Sakura-san?” Obito asks politely, which is unlike him, but Kakashi assumes he’s trying to make up for Genma. 

She shakes her head. “No, I arrived with my shishou and her other apprentice this morning.”

“Your shishou?” He twists his sake cup in his fingers as Genma practically gulps down his beer. “What are you studying?”

Sakura smiles. Kakashi watches. He’s noticing a pattern. “Medical ninjutsu,” she answers and he feels Rin’s adrenaline spike across the table. 

“Really?!” she asks, instantly perky. “I’m a med-nin!”

“Ah, that’s wonderful! There aren’t many and it’s difficult work,” Sakura says, pouring  _ another  _ glass for herself and Kakashi. He pretends he doesn’t feel smug over her excluding the rest of them in their shots. “I should introduce you to my shishou. She’s a bitch to deal with, but there’s no one better.”

“Who is your shishou?” Rin sits on the edge of her seat, leaning over the table and staring at Sakura with stars in her eyes. 

“Tsunade-hime.”

The table freezes. 

_ Kakashi  _ freezes. 

“You’re a disciple of a Sannin?” Obito says, his voice a painful blur between sober and really, really drunk. 

Sakura nods and Rin suddenly gasps. “That’s the Strength of a Hundred Seal!”

Kakashi watches Sakura raise lithe fingers to the purple diamond on her forehead, a huff of a laugh escaping through her lips. “Yes, it is.”

Genma whistles. “Careful, Kakashi. I think she could whoop your ass.” His senbon wiggles as he picks up his mug, but then he pauses thoughtfully. “I mean, unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

“I’m going to kill all of you.”

Rin, rightfully, ignores him. “How long are you staying? Will you be working in the hospital? I’d love to observe you or Tsunade-sama, oh my  _ god _ . I can’t even imagine what all you know and what you could  _ teach  _ me—”

Sakura raises her hands, waving them in a placating gesture that almost covers her faint blush. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m sure we’ll have a chance to work together—”

Rin bursts over the table, taking Sakura’s hands in hers. “Thank you! Thank you! Oh my gosh!”

Sakura practically cringes and Kakashi reaches up and carefully extracts their hands apart, returning Sakura’s to her, but finds himself leaving one of his own down in the booth just a little too close to her. He’s an absolute idiot, he knows, since he’s playing games like an academy kid with his first crush, but… he can’t help himself. 

And the fact that her hand falls down from her lap and onto his does not go unnoticed to him. 

Despite all reason, he laces their fingers together and prides himself when she doesn’t reject it. 

Her eyes shine as she passes him  _ another  _ shot of sake and when he takes it, he feels the familiar waves of alcohol finally embracing his system enough for his methodical thoughts to slow and his brain to relax. So when she turns and tells them that she doesn’t know how long she’s staying, he doesn’t question his mixed feelings, but let’s them linger. And when she continues to pass him shots as the rest of them make conversation about the great Sannin Tsunade, he takes them. Gladly. And when Rin and Obito announce they're leaving so Rin can get some sleep before her hospital shift, he actually smiles a little that Sakura promises to visit her. Mercifully, Genma follows them out, but not without winking at them both and Kakashi is honestly surprised he didn’t offer a few finger guns as well. 

“You’re quiet around your friends,” she says, swirling the last swig of sake in the bottle before bringing it to her lips. Kakashi doesn’t hide his watching eyes. She smiles at him, liquor dripping down her chin that he unabashedly swipes away with his thumb. 

“They just don’t know when to shut up,” he tells her, heart pounding over the simple fact that their hands are still intertwined beneath the table. 

She smiles at him. She does that a lot, he notices. He decides he likes it. “They’re nice.”

“Nicer than me?” he says, the warmth in his chest leading him to her. 

Her smile grows and it wrecks him. “Definitely.”

“And I take it you’ve learned so much from your bitch of a shishou by being one yourself.”

She leans in with him, he thinks, the pull toward her making him wonder. “How perceptive of you. What else have you noticed about me?”

“You’re not afraid of anything,” he answers quickly, without thinking, because she’s so close now. Close enough he can feel her breath against his mask, the sake smell between them a connection he’s not ready to snuff out. “And independence like that comes from having it forced on you.”

“Sounds like you’re familiar.”

He watches her eyes flit over his mask and back up again. “Something like that.”

She rakes her gaze over him, slow and torturous as she searches the uncovered portion of his face for  _ something _ he doesn’t know and by the time she opens her mouth, he’s sure it was an answer from within herself. “Do you live near here?”

He tightens his grip on her hand, answering swiftly, “Yep.”

She tugs him from the booth, wearing the same wicked grin he’s growing fond of, and shuffles her feet to stand before she leads them both out into the crisp, quiet air of the earliest parts of the morning. He’s just grateful for a sign that she’s as intoxicated as he is, and when she spins on him in the middle of the dirt Konoha road, he copies her smile, his eyes crinkling and cheeks rising up over his mask. 

She’s… fun. 

He falls into her when she reaches for his other hand and pulls them together, his height more startling against her than when they first met, but her eyes twinkle up at him in the moonlight, unafraid. She perks up on her tiptoes and whispers into the night, “Take me home.”

He does. They rush, and she keeps pace with him which only stands to heighten the attraction spinning with alcohol in his blood. He hasn’t entered his apartment through the front door in ages, but with her, he does. They stumble in and he can feel her small hands on his arm and his chest, centering herself with him. He doesn’t mind. The humble foyer is dark, no lights left on in the small loft, and his fingers prickle as his nerves light beneath his skin where he touches her, holding her in place at the hips. Her breathing is already heavy and somehow he knows it’s not because of the near sprint on the way. 

Her eyes are green. Not the green of the forest he’s used to, not the green of his Jounin vest or the green he thinks of to cast a genjutsu around a camp in the middle of a mission. They’re bright and razor sharp, like a lantern out at sea or a polished gem, gleaming under scrutiny. 

Precious, he thinks, and an instinct to protect her washes over him like the tide before dawn. He lifts a hand, tracing his thumb across the thin skin stretched over her cheekbones and her first smile, the teasing one she pushes away, rises on her face. His other hand finds his mask at his chin, grasping it between two fingers. 

“Ah,” she starts before biting her tongue and holding back the jerk of her arm. He raises a slow brow at her and she turns meek, surely blushing in the darkness. She nibbles her bottom lip before raising her hand to his. “Can I?”

He scans her face, recording it in a way that makes some part of him uncomfortable, but that part of him was silenced three cups of sake ago. Instead of answering her, he lets his hand fall away and hers replaces it. She draws the line of his jaw, dragging slowly over the black fabric that spills down his throat and suddenly he feels like this matters to her. A second hand joins the first and her fingers dip beneath the fabric on his cheeks. He watches the sparks in her eyes as she pulls down his mask, letting it fall down around his neck before she repeats her touches on bare skin. 

“You’re…” she says softly, “so  _ pretty _ .”

He scoffs a ghost of a laugh. “Not really what I was going for, but hey.”

She hums, lost in her thoughts or the buzz, like he is, and takes her time marking the outline of his face, tickling her way over his ears and back down again. He doesn’t remember when he leaned in, when she ran out of room to continue, but then she’s right  _ there _ and those green eyes are grounding him in place, her calloused fingers signs of a true shinobi and for whatever reason he’s  _ so  _ fucking glad he had a shit day and wound up at the bar with his asshole friends. 

Her kiss tastes as sweet as her body, splayed open over his sheets in porcelain valleys, waiting for him and his touches. 

And when he wakes the next morning, she’s gone. 

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to harass me on Twitter - @jarynw02


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